Weak
by Magic Rose
Summary: New chapter! Bra's stuck in purgatory and her faith begins to wane as time wears on...until her hope is rekindled by the most unexpected event...
1. Beginnings

Author's Note: Welcome to my crazy story. Enjoy.

* * *

"Vegeta, really, do we have to go see _300_?" Bulma's voice came in almost a whine, as she, Vegeta, and Bra approached the movie theater. "First of all, it's full of violence and gore that Bra doesn't need to be seeing, and second of all, I can make a much better suggestion--why don't we go see _I Think I Love My Wife_?"

"Because what you _really_ want her to see is a man questioning his fidelity to his wife," Vegeta grumbled, rolling his eyes and introducing, as usual, his own brand of logic to the situation. "...while you would far rather her _not _see a movie about a true event, a story--it's fiction in some senses but the story itself is true--about fierce warriors who would sooner die than bend their knee to an opposing king. Immoral versus moral, I'm sure you can find an argument in your favor if we stand here long enough...." The usual rambling response was one he procured whenever Bulma's incessant nagging about anything to do with Bra came into play.

Bulma could find no real words to combat this argument, though she really would rather her precious daughter (though she was all of nineteen today) not be exposed to such bloody horrors as the movie contained. She had always been rather protective of her daughter, though Vegeta, mainly, would be the one to take care of such matters. As a result, Bra was rather a sheltered girl, and rarely went anywhere besides school, though she was far past the age for social interaction to begin.

"Mother, please," Bra said, "This movie is likely the closest I'm going to get in trying to figure out what the other saiyans were like before they all died, since _neither of you_ will tell me very much beyond how tough they were. I seriously doubt that it's going to scar me for life or some nonsense like that--I've seen daddy do far worse things than what _a movie _will be showing in reference to a death scene..."

After this _convincing_ argument, Bulma had reluctantly allowed her to come into the theater with them.

Bra had been fascinated from the moment she saw the movie trailers, though Bulma would greatly have preferred not exposing her to such violence, even in such a small way. But as anyone will tell you, the devil's in the details; everyone knows it's the little things that matter. Small things--someone else's tights down the back of the chair, a fiber under a dead girl's nails, a ticket stub from a movie.

As the lights darkened in the theater, and the film began to play, Bra shifted her weight slightly, getting comfortable for the film.

Such a small thing. That one small moment hung in the air, a palpable excitement in the stillness. A small moment, yes, but one bordering on the edge of the momentous. A simple movie crafted in a way to appeal to men, appealed to the heart of a young girl in a way that resonated with her like nothing ever had. How tough, the men were, born and bred to be warriors, to live and die on the battlefield, which was where most of their living seemed to occur.

How could she get in on that, she wondered? All her life she had been a sheltered girl, the daughter of a man who had spent most of his life fighting and conquering. And what did she have to show for this life? Nothing of any tangible value.

She remained in awe of the fighting spirit of the Spartans, of the willingness to die in a heap of blood with the odds stacked heavily against you. The fear of death? It wouldn't be present, because death was honorable on the field of battle. If you sacrificed yourself for the good of your brothers, then you died for a good reason.

When the movie was over she had an odd look on her face. Vegeta saw it, as did Bulma, and both seemed to interpret it differently. Bulma thought that her daughter might need a little sit-down explaining that such warfare was unnecessary, and would most likely lay out tedious unpleasant lectures about the bloody movie not in any way being something she should imitate.

Vegeta wanted to tell her the movie was something that she should pay attention to, that dying on the field of honor was something indeed that one should remember as a warrior. However, because he didn't want her fighting (what princess, he reasoned to himself, was ever meant to fight? Telling them of such things would only ever _encourage _fighting...) he would say nothing.

Not the first mistake the man had ever made but certainly one that would be high on his list of major upsets.

* * *

Bra dreamt all night of battles and blood, of the glory of a battle won, of the shame of a battle lost, and most of all, the life a warrior led. It was not a pleasant one, but she noticed that those who won were always the happy ones. They had conquered another enemy; they had fulfilled another mission's objectives, they had repelled a foreign invader! What else was there to life than the field of battle? What other than the defeat, the death, the complete erasing of an enemy's life, was there to live and breathe and die for?

As a result of such warlike dreams, when Bra finally did wake up, she was feeling particularly fierce. She headed out very quickly after getting ready for the day--thinking she'd just take the car for a spin and do a little shopping.

It was not the most exciting choice she had ever made, but it was a baby step in the road she was soon to take.

After a few hours of hitting the department store sales, she decided to take a walk down the street from the mall to get herself an ice cream...a childish thing, but the shop had been in the same place for forty years, and she had always enjoyed it immensely.

When she passed by an alleyway on the way to the ice cream shop, she thought nothing of the chill running up her spine...until she felt her arm grasped by a cold hand. "Well, well, well, look what we have here...the rich little heiress from Capsule Corp!"

A sinister laugh sounded and she felt herself suddenly thrown against the wall.

"I imagine your mummy will pay a lot to keep her precious baby safe, won't she?" The same voice from a moment before sounded again. "Hey! You! Get over here, we're taking her back--"

"No, you're--" Bra struggled, kneeing the strange man in the groin. He fell, briefly, to his knees, but was back up just as soon as his friend arrived--rope and a long knife in hand. "You'd better _get _her for that!" the first man growled at the second. "Dumb broad..."

Bra started to kick the second man, but he was taller, broader, and much stronger than the first. He lunged forward with the knife in hand; blade going straight through her shoulder and all but sticking her to the alley way which was largely comprised of wood.

The pain...Bra felt the blood flowing out of the wound and running down her arm...the pain--the two men, she noticed, were laughing, and the second reached out, pushing the blade farther in, as he mocked her completely defenseless state. It hurt, worse than anything she had ever felt before and she felt her world growing dim as the blood continued to flow ever onward...

_Is this my end? My fate? To die like this...cornered... _Bra thought as she struggled to stay conscious. It was certainly not the death that she had envisioned...

**_Your fate is what you accept!_**

The sharp voice cut through her muddled mind like a machete through half-melted butter, giving her something to grasp hold of while the knife wreaked utter havoc with the muscle and tissue in her shoulder. It was a harsh voice, one that was so cruel in tone that her anger at being spoken to in such a way roused her briefly from what surely would be death.

_I am dying...what changing of that can there be? _Even as she had these thoughts, the darkness seemed to grow...it was going to take her...

_**If you accept death then you deserve it! Weakling mortal! Do you not know the strength of your own will?!**_

Bra grew angry at the voice, but at that moment, she felt the anger fading...and she relaxed. The weakness was taking her, and the darkness...the darkness, it was lovely, calming. It was like no bliss she had ever felt...

* * *

"**Mortal**."

She heard the words, and bleary-eyed, looked up...into what? There seemed to be nothing but total darkness, and yet in that darkness there was a voice, rousing her from the slumber of death...

"Who...are you?"

"**Someone who desires to see the lazy punished. And death...death is too good for you! It is that which you accepted out of laziness, not out of injury! This is too great a crime against your blood!**"

"What business...what business of yours is my blood?" She asked, trying to open her eyes, but it was as if the lids were being held shut, and so she could not open them to view her apparent captor. What, she wondered, was going on here?

"**It is my business that the blood of warriors does not go to waste!**"

"But I am no warrior...I am--"

"**You are more a warrior in your heart than in your body, but this can be fixed, and it _will_ be. Your trials await.**"

Bra would then find herself able to open her eyes. There was a pleasant breeze coming off the water...

Wait.

WATER?!

She rushed to the edge of the platform she appeared to be standing on. "What..is going on...here..." Looking out, she noticed four enormous stone horses standing in water...beyond them she saw only more water.

This sight, of course, only served to scare the hell out of her, and make her afraid.

However, something about the air; about the atmosphere of the crumbling ruins, told her that there was something here for her. But what? It was ruined, and there surely was no one there alive. What purpose was there in staying?

Noting that it was beginning to rain...Bra headed into the crumbling ruins to look for some shelter...and a weapon. No way, she thought, would such a place be completely abandoned...all buildings existed to house something, whether it be treasure or enemy horde.

"Rather hard to find your way back...when you don't know how you got here..." she mumbled to herself. Remembering, dryly, all the adventure novels she had read over the course of her life, she realized that she wasn't the first to be pushed into something like this.

Something grand, bold, exciting.

Something that could change everything for her. Something that could empower her; improve her strength, and make sure that what happened to her in the alley would never happen again.


	2. Apollo's News

Bra stopped briefly when she entered the ruins, noting that the floor was already sodden due to a water flow at the top of a rock formation that seemed to mimic steps. It was beautiful, she thought, smiling as the rain began to pound down from overhead. This made it virtually impossible to ascend the steps.

Nevertheless, she climbed wearily to the top of the stairs where an extinguished torch sat in what appeared to be a basin. With the torch out, she could draw no comfort from its heat; but water had collected in the bottom of the basin in which it sat, giving her the benefit of having a drink.

After a treacherous climb amoung the ledges to the west side of the fountain, she found herself rounding a corner and stepping into a strange room. Resting at the far end of the room was an enormous headless statue with its hands, palms facing upward, extended to the floor.

Making her way into the room she stepped onto a switch--prompting, as it seemed, an eerie voice to sound off; a voice that sounded familiar...

**_"Mortal..."_**

Bra stopped where she was upon hearing the voice, fear trickling up her spine and chilling her to the point of shaking in terror. "Who are you?" she asked, her tone timid and phobic.

**_"One who wishes your blood to be used."_**

"Is it your intent to kill me?" Her voice rang out in an irascible way; tired

**_"It is my intent to turn you into a warrior! Does your blood not cry out for battle, even in your laziness? Does your royal line not demand that you fight?"_**

"The royal line is dead!" Bra shouted, her manner of speaking surprising even her.

**_"It shall be so no longer!"_**

There was a pause, and the voice spoke no more. She was about to relax, but heard a footstep behind her. A menacing growl sounded off and echoed eerily, causing her to whip around so quickly she became dizzy for a moment.

Before her stood an enormous cyclops with a large club in its hands. It glared (at this she would have laughed were she not in danger; the glare of a creature with one eye is comical to observe) at her and lumbered forward, roaring as it attempted to flatten her with the club.

Bra had no time to do anything other than react--her first instinct told her to roll forward, towards it--because jumping back or to the side would leave the cyclops with more time to respond to her movement-- and then she would have had to move again.

She had assumed quite correctly--the thick-witted creature spent a few seconds looking to see where she had gone. This delay gave her just enough time to jump back, use the wall behind the creature as a springboard of sorts, and rebound so that her fist would be driven directly into its neck, creating a lovely CRACK! noise. It was sent flying into the headless statue's hands, which naturally crumbled as a result.

There was a pause as she waited to see if it was still alive. When the cyclops did not stir, she walked forward to it, leaning over the club...it was an interesting weapon, was it not? She was about to grasp its handle when the ground behind her trembled and she turned in haste to see--another cyclops?

"You have got to be kidding me!" Bra stumbled back, sure she would fail to slay this creature as she had done with the other cyclops. She met its gaze, and stumbled back, mind only on how bloodily she would--

And that was when she tripped over one of the crumbled fingers of the statue and without thinking, heaved the largest chunk of stone at the cyclops. The piece would completely decapitate the beast, and leave half the room covered in an utter mess.

It also left Bra fighting for her breath, clothing coated in blood...

She took a step back to survey the damage and would find herself falling…landing square on her back. "Ow, now that…" she would struggle to her feet, noting a small pool of water with, apparently, a container holding a gardening arrangement in it.

The flora, she paid no mind to, but the water, it she relished the sight of. Without a second thought she removed her boots and clothing, and began to bathe. Though the water was cold, the simple act of a bath brought her some comfort.

When she finished, she grabbed her now-much-cleaner garb and began to dress again.

However, her thoughts were not far-reaching--as she dressed she heard the crumbling of a few rocks overhead, the tell-tale symbol that someone, or something, was watching.

She heard neighing, and when she turned around, she was staring straight into the nose of an enormous grey stallion. Seated atop this magnificent beast was a blonde man with a flawless complexion and the face resembling the etchings of angels.

"Who…who are you?" Bra asked, taking a step back in absolute fear.

"I think the better question, my lady, is, who are you?" The man didn't move from his place, but he gazed down upon her with a fierce stare. "And why is someone as pretty as you here alone?"

Their eyes met for just a moment; but Bra broke the look when his eyes became clouded, as if by sorrow…though this look passed, she had still seen it; and her curiosity about the lordly stranger was piqued as a result.

"I was brought here by someone I do not know," she said in reply, "…I am still trying to figure out why anyone would want to bring me to such a ruin."

"A ruin, my lady?" the stranger said, with a raised brow. "This is far from a ruin," he continued, "This is the Temple of the Fates, though unused by the former occupants."

"What happened to them?"

"A man seeking to change his past came here," he replied, "…they refused to grant him the change that he so desperately desired, and in his ensuing anger he slaughtered them."

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"Tragedy drove him to madness…" was the short answer. "But we should get back to you--really, my lady, you should not be traveling these dangerous halls alone. Will you allow me to accompany you?"

"Not until you tell me who you are," Bra said, in an anxious tone. "I do not travel with those whom I do not know."

"How rude of me, then," he said with a smile, "…my name is Apollo."

"The…Apollo the god Apollo?" Bra asked, dumbfounded--partly at the fact that the god was before her and partly that she had managed to make such a guess.

"That would be me," Apollo's lips lifted, showing an incredible smile. "You look surprised, my lady. Is my existence really so far-fetched an idea to you?"

"I never thought that--" Bra started to speak, but Apollo cut her off very quickly. "Come. I can get you through here a lot more safely than you can do on your own."

"I am perfectly capable of--"

"Getting through here yourself? But you don't even know where you're going, little one. On foot, it will take you many days to find what you are looking for…" Apollo smiled, reaching his arm down to her, extending his hand. "On horseback, it will be much faster."

After a moment's consideration, Bra took his hand and felt herself pulled up onto the saddle. She was nervous for a moment (as she was seated in front of Apollo), but gradually this fear lessened--Apollo's silence told her more than his words would have…

She had nothing to fear from him.

"Now, let's be off," Apollo said, clicking his tongue. The stallion would move onto the upper platform with ease, and less easily out of the broken window and into the courtyard below.

Rubble littered the area, as did blood.

"What happened here?" Bra asked, blinking in surprise at the surrounding carnage.

"There is no time to explain," Apollo said, "We must continue, my lady." He paused…and this pause turned into an awkward silence as his eyes strayed southward.

"What are you--"

"My lady…did you injure yourself?" Apollo asked, his right hand running over her right forearm. "Your arm is…"

"What are you talking about?"

He indicated at that moment a spot around her wrist. On this spot, Bra's skin was tinged a strange grey color, and no matter what he did--he tried scratching at it and rubbing at it with the edge of his sleeve, to no avail--nothing seemed to make it go away.

"This is indeed a strange thing," Apollo said, "And you are sure you haven't burnt yourself, or something of that sort?"

"I just got here," Bra protested, "…and the most I did was fight those ogres from earlier. If you recall, I was bathing before you found me. There's no way I missed this spot…there's just…no way…"

"We should be going," Apollo said, changing the subject quite suddenly, "…before more of those creatures show up."

It was very strange to Bra to be on a horse's back, and to be traveling so quickly over such distances. The steed crossed the bridge, and made an enormous jump over the stone railing, landing before a path that lead through the woods.

Then, as if it were eager for a break, the stallion began trotting quietly through the eerily silent woods--as if it were enjoying the peace, and the quiet, unaware of Bra's unease at the situation. Unaware that she felt some impending sense of doom, the farther they got into these woods…

In this pace, this quiet trotting, Bra began to nod…and it was not soon before she was fast asleep.

She would awaken in what appeared to be a temple, bodies littering the ground everywhere. There seemed not to be an inch of ground to be seen that did not have a body or blood covering it.

She would continue walking, aware now of the fact that this was a dream--this was not the same temple that she left just moments before. This was one from a well-populated area, one which obviously had many visitors at the time this apparent slaughter had hit.

One body in particular seemed to grab her attention, and she looked quietly over it. It belonged to a most beautiful woman with dark brown hair.

"Who are you…" Bra said, more to herself, than anyone else. The burning desire to discover this woman's identity was puzzling. Why did this matter so much? It was a body…amoung a sea of bodies. What made it any different than the child's body laying next to it?

It most definitely scared her, then, when the body's eyes opened…when the body's arms pushed it up, and looked directly at her.

"So…" it would say to her, "So, you have come at last…do you know how long I have waited?"

"Waited?" Bra asked, "But…but…waited for what?" She sat down next to the woman's body, feeling a bit scared of her, despite the fact that the woman was (or rather, should have been) dead.

"Waited for you…" the mysterious woman said, "Do you not know?"

"Not know what?"

"Oh, yes…that is right…" the woman's already beautiful face was graced with a lovely smile, one that could melt the heart of the hardest warrior. "You wouldn't know…"

"Wouldn't know what?" Bra asked, beginning to grow quite impatient. Dead or not, she wanted this woman to get to the point.

"My dear...that you...are me."

* * *

What lies ahead for Bra, considering this revelation? Read, review, and wait for my next installment of this gripping tale...


	3. Shenlong's Plight

Bra woke with a start, noting that despite the cool and dry air in the surrounding woods, she was soaked with a most unbearable sweat.

"My lady," she heard Apollo say behind her, "It looks as if you have had a disturbing nightmare. Perhaps if you told me of it, I could assist you in interpreting it somehow."

Bra explained the entire thing to him and awaited his judgment on the dream. Being that her back was to him, she did not see the color drain from his face as he pondered best how to speak to her.

"I can give you no counsel on such a dream," Apollo began quietly, "Except to be mindful of the things around you; perhaps they may lend a hand in figuring out this mystery."

"Perhaps, then," Bra began said, "If you can't tell me about…the dream, then you could tell me-"

"I can tell you no more. I apologize, my lady." The look in his eyes made it quite apparent that he knew something-but what? What could be so important, so utterly terrifying, that he would keep it from her?

"A-"

Suddenly, she felt every muscle in Apollo's body tense, and then herself looked up to see what might be the source of this rigidity.

"Apollo, what is wrong?"

"My lady, look to the sky…" Her companion's voice was shaky, uneven-cold, but not in the cruel sense. It was as if the very warmth of his blood was stolen from every vein in his body.

Bra looked up, and was immediately puzzled. The sky was pitched black, but in rather a strange way. It was not the darkness of night, nor the darkness of storm, but the darkness, instead, of shadow.

An enormous shadow that was beginning to engulf the entire island.

"This is a most unpleasant and ill omen," Apollo said in a low voice. "Shadow can mean only terror and death."

"Shadow of what, exactly?"

"I do not know, my lady. But we should hurry into the temple. There are enemies there, yes, but with shelter we are more likely to have good fortune should we have to battle any…"

"Are you quite certain of that? What of the…things that attacked me?"

"My lady…you showed that you can handle yourself and such creatures as that quite deftly-for that reason, you have little to fear. But that was alone; now, you have a god to help you."

"But why are you helping me? With the shadows, and such danger about, I-"

"I am seeking peace, my lady. The small journey I make with you shall bring me that peace."

"I don't understand," Bra said-and truly, she did not. She glanced skyward again as Apollo's stallion trotted ever onward; noticing the twisting shadow taking form.

It struck her that this new form was familiar to her…scales were forming, shadowy scales, on the strange being's visage. Spikes were running consecutively on its back…

And suddenly, it struck her.

"Shenlong!"

"Shenlong?" came the inevitable question from Apollo. "Who is Shenlong?"

"A…a mighty dragon from my world; who grants wishes when seven magical orbs are gathered together. Why is he here?"

"Your Shenlong and ours surely cannot be one and the same, then, if the one you know is a dragon…"

"What are you talking about?" Bra asked, "…you have a Shenlong here as well?"

"Yes," Apollo replied, with a vigorous nod, "He was once a god, and is the great father of all the sisters of fate."

"Was once a god?" Bra asked, "That seems….quite….unreal. In our world, he has been a dragon for hundreds of years if not longer than that."

"Perhaps the time in your world, my lady, is different from ours? Shenlong, in our world, was the great god of wishes, and governed the fates of many. He was a tall being, with hair as green as fresh grass, and possessed as deep a voice as a man could possibly have. Truly a magnificent being, and he cared about those whose fate he ruled and oftentimes this would get him into trouble with Zeus."

"Why would it do that?"

"He would…change the fate of certain people whom Zeus did not wish to have a second chance."

"Why would Zeus stop him from being a god? What did Shenlong do to so upset him?"

"You see…not so long ago in this world; but two decades ago in yours, Shenlong changed the fate of a woman. This woman had been held dead, in the Underworld, for years on end, shut away where it seemed that none could save her. Zeus had a purpose for this, which I shall not reveal, but you can believe that it was to provoke the suffering of another. Shenlong, in his infinite grace, wisdom and understanding, caused a series of events that lead to her escape. However, he could not save her body, which had been marred beyond belief during her stay in the underworld."

"Then…what good could her spirit do?"

Apollo ignored this question, and went on with his story, "Shenlong allowed her spirit into the world that you were brought out of, so she could not be touched by the gods again; so that she could be safe from them. Naturally, Zeus found out, and cursed him to stay forever in the form that he always has taken in your world-his draconic form."

"What is happening now?"

"Locked as he is in this form…Shenlong is dying-Zeus knows this." Apollo replied, "He can only hold the form for a short time without damaging himself-as anyone who can do so will tell you, the bigger the object you change yourself into, the more effort it takes. When he comes into your world, he is supplied with the power needed to keep himself in that form, by…what means draws him there?"

"The dragon balls. All one has to do is gather seven dragonballs, demand that he appear and he does."

"The dragon balls must be a source of his power…I do not say the only source, but _a _source. But I must get on…without a source of power, to maintain his life, Shenlong will die. Then…the fates will truly be at the whim of the gods, even more so than they were with the sisters around."

Bra lowered her head. "So that was why he never wanted to stick around for too long in our world. He always hated to wait-wanted us to hurry up with our wish or wishes so that he could leave. I never understood it then…I do now."

"Because he had so much to do here, my lady," Apollo said, briefly, before freezing; sitting bolt upright in the saddle of the stallion-he had seen something else; but what?

Atop a large (and dead) oak was perched an enormous bird, whose breed Bra could not quite place in the stillness and darkness of the bog.

"What do you want?" she heard Apollo asked, in rather an angry tone.

"It's only a bird-" Bra began, but a glare from Apollo told her that he knew best and that he would deal with this.

The bird flew down from the tree and just as its talons touched the arid ground; a lightning bolt from the heavens struck it. The brilliance of the bolt was too much for her eyes to bear, so Bra shut them-and when she opened them again she saw quite the shocking sight.

Instead of a bird, now before them stood a man, tall, with white hair and beard. "I can no longer allow you to fill the head of our young guest with lies, Apollo."

His voice was deep, and clearly, the tone this mysterious man used was one of rank and dignity. This was a lordly man indeed, one who had reason for arrogance; if ever there was one.

"Lies, my father?" Apollo said, dismounting the stallion and striding towards the man, "Lies? It is you who would have her serving your whims as you do with all others on Olympus! It is you, Zeus, who-"

"You should not speak to me that way, my son," Zeus said, "Remember who it is, that gave you life; whose actions led to your own existence!"

Bra stayed silent-clearly this argument was not one that should be interrupted. These were gods, after all; and what business was it of hers to interject in a conversation (or argument, rather) between two such mighty beings?

"And also whom it is," Apollo grated out in the most revolted of tones, "…that has made my life misery."

"I will give you one…more…chance, Apollo. Express your apology for speaking to me in such a manner or I shall be forced to…"

"I would rather die," Apollo said, "My lady! Take my stallion and-"

"She is not leaving-she will stay to see how those who defy me are dealt with and made an example of! Then, depending on whom she decides to serve; she will either live or she will die."

"You are not going to hurt him-" Bra, feeling a stunning, reckless courage sweeping into her and through her, urged Apollo's stallion forward-she was already feeling the energy flowing through her, she was going to make sure that he, king of the gods or no, would suffer for his threats against Apollo.

But as many before her had done, she underestimated him.

Zeus, in a movement faster than the lightning bolt from just a few moments before, reached up, seized her by the neck, and flung her into the bushes.

That hurt badly enough, but-then she heard a sound that banished from all corners of her mind the pain which she was feeling.

The sound of metal going through flesh.

"Apollo!" She called out, as she struggled to get herself out of the dead (and strangely clingy) bush's gnarled little branches.

The sight that greeted her was ghastly. Apollo was laying at Zeus's feet, with a long sword's blade protruding from his back-the Blade of Olympus.

"Apollo…" Bra took in a wavering breath-he had done nothing but help her from the moment they'd met, and now…

"What in the -"

"Hyacinthus…" she heard Apollo saying in a rasping voice, as though with his last breath. "Hyacinthus, my love…we…we shall be apart, no more…" His breathing grew ragged, as the puddle of his blood grew, and grew.

Bra ran forward as if to see if he could be saved and found herself kicked in the back by Zeus so that she fell face-first into the puddle of blood.

The first thing she thought was how strange the blood of a god tasted…

The second thing was-why was she tasting his blood?

"Now," she heard Zeus say behind her. "Either you vow to serve me, or you will have the same fate that your _friend_ here had."

"I would rather die." Bra snapped, "What harm had he ever done you, that you should kill him?" She felt the tears stinging in her eyes; and she gulped-causing a sputtering; for she had unwittingly swallowed a little of Apollo's blood.

She had only begun to push herself up from the dirt, when she felt -the blade being thrust into her own back, the threat of death near, as it had been before, not so very long ago.

"Zeus…you think…do you honestly…think-" Bra found a voice, not her own, rising from her throat. This scared her even more than the mass of blood pouring from her wound.

"Zeus," the voice continued, "Think you that I will give up so easily? Think you that my husband will stand for this travesty?"

"Lysandra? The voice of the unwanted woman speaks from a stolen body, then," Zeus' powerful voice burst out, as if venomous, as if…

"My husband knows where I am, Zeus; your son, your son, Apollo, has told him with the last of his strength. Vengeance be in his heart, and I pray his mercy fails and he deals cruelly with you."

Bra felt all things fade to black. The strange, unruly arms of Hades were reaching up to seize her body, to begin her endless torture in the accursed land…was this death?


	4. Not In West City Anymore

"I command you, Shenlong, to appear before me, that you may grant my wishes…" Vegeta's voice rang loud and clear over the plateau he'd chosen to summon the dragon on.

He was worried.

More worried than he had ever been before; worried sick, almost, about his precious daughter.

It had been two weeks now, and he couldn't even sense her. What had really happened to her?

He knew not if Shenlong could help, he just knew, Shenlong would be the best source of help, and far less annoying than dealing with the Kais.

The darkening of the sky, the sudden appearance of the scaly wonder that was the dragon Shenlong…it was all so familiar.

Except…

Shenlong appeared, his snout nearly touching the ground, his body much lower than it usually was--usually he held himself high in the sky.

"What in the hell--"

"Speak quickly, saiyan warrior…for my death draws near…"

"Death?" Vegeta asked, "Fine. I wanted to get on with this anyway. I wish to be told where my daughter is."

Shenlong nodded his head, eyes glazing over as if he were thinking. "I don't have much time, but I will tell you what I can, and why she is where she is."

"Then tell me! Is she alive?!"

"She is alive…"

"Where is she?"

"Another…world entirely…a dimension, you might say," Shenlong replied. Then he seemed to struggle for his next breath. He recovered, apparently, and continued, "Something you must learn, Vegeta…your daughter, was never your daughter."

"Explain, now."

"About twenty years ago in your world, but only a short while ago in another; a woman was killed, and sent to what you call HFIL, but in that world, is called Hades. She was tortured endlessly, and only through great effort was I able to free her from that torment."

Vegeta nodded, impatiently wanting him to get to the point.

"Her spirit escaped--her body could not. It was marred beyond belief, damaged too much to be of any use to her. And her spirit I sent to your world…"

He paused. "Do you remember when your daughter was born?"

"Of course," Vegeta said, "She didn't breathe for a frightening three minutes…"

"Your daughter," Shenlong said, "Was stillborn. This woman's spirit took possession of your daughter's body…"

"That's impossible--" Vegeta protested.

Shenlong would lower his head further…and further, till Vegeta could almost look him straight in the eye.

"Look for the Omega on the top of the mountain…that Goku…was found..o…"

And just like that, Shenlong was gone.

* * *

There was a sharp pain in Bra's ribs; which was what woke her from her stupor. The painful burn (likely as not, from the fires of Hades, though she knew not of that) had faded and was replaced now with an ache.

She felt another pain; this time, from a kick in her ribs.

"Get up," she heard a rough voice said.

She groaned in response, which earned her another kick in the ribs.

"I'm up…I'm up…" Bra groaned, forcing herself into a sitting position. Realizing she was still in the location where she'd died (for she had seen the 'Next Dimension' and this certainly was not that place), she looked down at her wound, only to find that it was closed.

All that remained was a large scar.

"Get up!" yet another kick. "I haven't time to wait around for you to rouse yourself!"

With a groan, Bra forced herself to her feet, and saw the culprit responsible for the ache in her side.

Six feet of chiseled muscle, scars, and one elaborate tattoo.

Her first thought was how brutal and untamed he looked. The second, was the air of arrogance that seemed to permeate his very being.

Here was a man who had all reason to think highly of himself; even from the way he stood, Bra could tell that he had much to be proud of.

"And who," he asked, "are you?"

"My name is…is Bra…" Bra began. She wasn't sure how to speak to this man, he seemed rather like her father in that one was afraid to speak for fear of upsetting him; and she wondered if this was not what he intended.

"I don't know who you are," the man thought for a moment after speaking, though when he looked at her, it was a lingering sort of glance.

But she paid him no mind.

"Let's go."

His words were quite sudden and a little bit surprising to her. He was asking her to travel with him? Already? Or perhaps it was something else.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." And without a moment's hesitation, the tattooed man grabbed her arm, dragging her along behind him.

"Now wait just a minute--!" Bra began to protest, but she was very quickly cut off.

"We don't have time for this. I do not desire to reach into Hades once more to drag your limp body out. Follow me and be swift about it!" Here he released her, and she followed on behind him.

"And--and who are you, exactly, to be handing out orders?" Bra snapped, as anyone might, and the payback was a stunning blow across the face.

"The one who saved you from an eternity of torment. Be grateful I bothered."

Her face was still stinging from the impact, and so she stayed silent…for a little while. It seemed he was leading her through a path in the woods that curved down to the water.

She wondered why he was doing this, for a moment, and then realized it about the time she saw the boat.

A boat.

Of course--she wouldn't have expected him to fly here, and she was sure that no helicopters existed in a place such as this, which seemed devoid of progress. It seemed locked in a time long gone.

"Where are we going, exactly?"

"The mainland, obviously. It will be harder for the gods to spy on me that way."

"If it is the gods you are so concerned about," Bra said, feeling a little bit uneasy (and who could blame her, after the blow across the face she'd received only a few minutes ago!). "…then why am I to go with you?"

The stranger seemed to ignore this, and Bra got the impression he was annoyed by her question.

_Likely as not, the answer was one he didn't wish to share_, she told herself. Her father was like this--when you asked him a difficult question he would ignore you, and pretend as though you didn't exist.

"Get on the boat."

He sure wasn't one for conversation, that was for sure. Nervously (for she had not been on a boat before, and thus, had no sea-legs), she went aboard, legs a bit shaky as she did so.

The stranger boarded the ship as well, and took an oar, shoving them off, as it were.

"Now," he said, "You had questions."

"Yes…" Bra said, watching him closely. "…what is your name?"

"Kratos."

"Where are we going and why?"

"The mainland. I need to prepare for my trip to Olympus…but why do I speak of it now? You surely are a spy of the gods."

"I am no spy! I don't even know what's going on, how I got here…"

"I am sure a maiden has a purpose for being on the island of the sisters; and it must be a good one, for all the dangers that cover the island would have killed any ordinary person quickly."

"I am _not_--" Bra sniffed, perhaps a bit contemptuously, "--what you would call _ordinary_."

"I can tell," Kratos said, dryly. "You walk like one of noble blood. But you are not what is important here."

Bra began to protest, but fell silent--she sighed, glancing down at her hands, and noticed something that chilled her to the core.

The grayish-white that Apollo had noticed earlier on her, seemed to have spread to her hands. Both now were enveloped in a white tone that even she knew was unnatural.

But…how had it happened?

But a few hours before (so she imagined), the stain--if she could call it that--had only been a spot, now; it seemed to have spread thus far.

What _was _it?

She was wakened from her thoughts by a jab in the back. When she turned, Bra saw Kratos, holding what looked to be a spear; the butt end of which he'd been jabbing her in the back with.

"….yes?" she asked.

Kratos was quiet; for a moment. Then he spoke, "If you're going to be here," he said, rather gruffly, "You're going to have to be of some use. I'm not having a lazy brat on my hands. Not when I have more _important_ things to do."

"And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?"

"Find something to do," He growled at her.

She sighed, and turned to notice, that there was a sort of "shack" on the deck, and once inside realized there were stairs leading to the lower part of the ship.

Silently she walked down them, noting that this seemed to be some sort of a storage room--there were fish in a sort of bin near the wall, dried out. Next to that was another basket, this one filled with water-skins. It seemed that Kratos traveled prepared…though his food-stores were a bit…low.

Past that was a door, which she opened.

Inside was what seemed to be a bedroom, though the bed had no sheets, instead, it seemed to have animal skins.

Bra cringed at the idea of having to sleep on that, and then realized--she couldn't. That was _his _bed and she wasn't about to share it! But, then, where would she sleep?

She realized she would have to solve that problem later.

For now, while he wasn't there to hound her, she glanced back at her hands. They were still that same white color…and she was sure the sudden change couldn't mean anything good.

She took a seat on the bed, and thought--what had changed from the time she had first noticed the spot, to now? No doubt it had to be some sort of contact with someone, because she was certain that no spells or anything of the sort were upon her.

The travel, Zeus' attack on her, and…Kratos slapping her. That had been the only physical contact that she'd had with anyone.

Her mind went to work.

No doubt if it had been contact with Apollo triggering the change, she would have been changed more quickly.

Zeus had touched her only with the sword, so she was sure that it was not he who was causing this paling of her skin.

That left Kratos only.

But why would his touch cause her to pale?

She heard footsteps and swiftly stood, as if to straighten the covers of the bed--if one could properly call it a bed.

When she turned, she saw Kratos.

"On deck," he said, in the same halting fashion which reminded her so much of her father. "Now. The sea is calm and we'll have to row."

_Row_? This entire boat? _Her_?

The wealthy heiress in her was deeply offended; but the sane part of her (the part that noticed the deepening glare he was casting at her and the part that enjoyed breathing) was merely irritated.

She would wordlessly follow him on deck, where two oars lay.

He indicated to her to take one; and he took the other, glaring at her still--as if _daring _her to protest.

Again, the heiress in her was offended. Why should she be made to do this? Why was it _she_ had to work like this?

The next three hours were _the _worst hours she'd ever spent on a boat. By the time the current and winds picked up again, she was sore everywhere, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for the rest of her life.

Kratos seemed unfazed--he seemed almost to be enjoying himself, which puzzled Bra greatly.

"Are…are we…how much further…" Bra was having some difficulty breathing, "…is the main land…"

Kratos was smirking, almost reveling in her fatigue. It was as though he knew her all too well and was enjoying the fact he'd brought her down a peg or two. "Not very much further, perhaps half a day away. Less if this wind keeps up and the current stays in our favor."

Bra just nodded quietly.

"You need to figure out what it is you're going to do when we reach the mainland," Kratos said. "Because you're not following me around like some sort of helpless noblewoman."

"_Helpless_?"

"Yes, helpless. Look at you. You had Apollo's help and my help. You're pathetic, and unable to do anything on your own."

"I am not helpless!"

"Then I'd surely like to see you prove it."

Bra growled, something which elicited a laugh from Kratos. "The mewlings of a kitten don't threaten me," he said to her.

Again, she growled, and this time, tackled him--a very ill-advised maneuver, owing to the fact that he had a few years and about a hundred pounds on her.

Surprisingly, however, she knocked him over, and he came back up, striking her so hard across the face that she flew back several feet and fell completely overboard. "You--" he said, striding to the edge of the deck, face contorted in a snarl, "Have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

Roughly, he reached down into the water, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her straight up out of the water and onto the boat.

"Damn…" Bra growled, "…you've got a low tolerance for being challenged, don't you?"

"You aren't a fighter, whether or not you think you are," Kratos said, ignoring her question completely.

"My father--"

"It doesn't matter what your father was," Kratos didn't waste time interrupting her. "It's what _you _are. And _you _are not a warrior."

Bra fumed for a minute or two before looking back to him.

"You shouldn't be a warrior anyway…" she heard him mutter. "Waste of…"

But she didn't get to hear the end of his sentence, for at that very moment she heard a gurgling roar; as if something underwater was sounding a death knell.

She jumped to her feet, grabbing one of the weapons hung on the side of the cabin.

"Put that away," Kratos said, "The last thing I need is for you to cut your own arm off."

"Oh, very funny," she snapped at him.

The next minute, a beast rose from the water, possessing four tentacles and one ugly face.

"A kraken!?" Bra burst out, incredulously. This was it. She'd seen cyclops and gods and now krakens? What _else _was waiting to surprise her in this world?

"Stay back!" Kratos shouted, as he rushed forward, swinging both blades.

The kraken roared, swinging two tentacles at Kratos, and getting one chopped right off for its trouble. The second tentacle swung back, and caught him straight in the back; and smacked him squarely into the cabin wall.

It then took a grip on him, and started to move off into the water. Bra felt quite sick, but she knew exactly what she needed to do.

Grabbing the spear that also rested on the rack of weapons, she ran forward and took a flying leap onto the kraken's head, then plunged the spear directly into its left eye.

The kraken roared terribly, fit to deafen her, but she only pushed the spear even deeper into its head.

Another of its tentacles came up behind her, hitting her in the back and sending her flying back onto the boat.

She turned, noticing that this distraction had allowed Kratos to get back onto the boat and begin swinging his blades at it again. "Get that spear! A warrior doesn't leave his weapons in the enemy, especially not when it's on water!" he roared at her.

Stunned, Bra gathered her strength, and leapt back onto the Kraken, which was now swinging its tentacles wildly in an attempt to get the horrible object out of its eye. She hadn't realized before, but the kraken's skin was slimy…and therefore hard to get solid footing on.

She reached down, grabbing the spear (she certainly didn't remember it being stuck this well!), and beginning to pull. This elicited a lot of pain in the creature, and it began to swing its tentacles wildly at her, striking her once…twice…three times, each time nearly smacked her into the water.

Once the spear was dislodged, she leapt right back onto the boat, turned--and dropped the spear when the kraken grasped her in one of its three remaining tentacles.

Kratos, naturally, swung both his blades at her, cutting off yet another tentacle, but creating a large scar down Bra's back which immediately produced blood--being dropped on her back when the tentacle holding her fell onto the deck couldn't have been good for the wound either.

She began to lose sight…everything was going dark…

* * *

When next she woke, Bra found herself turned on her stomach. There was a nearly unbearable stinging pain in her back, but when she reached back to check--she felt stitches.

Had Kratos sewn up the wound? Where was he?

She heard voices then, and realized that she must have been out for a while…then she heard footsteps--obviously Kratos was coming back down the stairs.

Turning towards the door, she saw him enter, looking ill-pleased. "Good, you're awake. Get up and put this cloak on. I'm not having you seen."

"Why are you concerned if I'm seen?"A harsh glare reminded her of her place and she took the cloak, covering herself carefully.

"Now follow me, and keep your head down." He lead her up the stairs, off the boat, and into a small docking area.

Bra followed, and did as instructed, glancing up once or twice. The people they were passing were beggars, and sailors, and many other interesting types of people that she'd certainly never seen before. Several times he had to lead her by the hand past unsavory types (why was he doing this, she wondered? Certainly not from attachment), and she felt a tingle in her arms, which was ignored.

He stopped once more before an enormous statue, and tensed considerably."Kratos, what's wrong?"

He pointed to the plaque at the statue's base. "Zeus has a new puppet…"The plaque read: built to honor the glory of our god of war, vegeta.

"Oh, no…daddy…" Bra muttered.

"He'll regret this…" she heard Kratos say.


	5. Revelation

"That's all?"

Vegeta's voice was clear. He looked up at Zeus, arms crossed as he spoke. The last few days had certainly been interesting.

He'd all but decimated a few cities in his search for his daughter, leaving the cities looking like a nuclear explosion had taken place rather than what had really happened.

"Yes, that's all," Zeus said, "…kill this man and take back your daughter. You may then keep your immortality and your abilities as long as you go back to your own world."

How easy this would be, Vegeta was thinking. Not only had he finally gained the immortality he'd sought for so long, he also gained the chance to fight a worthy opponent. From what Zeus had told him, this Kratos was a legendary warrior. An adversary, the likes of whom he'd not faced in years.

"Kratos, you're about to be a dead man…" Vegeta smirked as he looked down from Mt. Olympus.

* * *

Silence enveloped the tavern when Kratos walked in. He was still leading Bra by the hand, and Bra herself was still completely unsure of why he was doing this; he had already instructed her to keep her head down. While she was wearing the cloak, no one could see her. Perhaps that was what it was, then, he wanted her to stay unseen.

He was almost instantly served and she sat quietly by him, not speaking. She'd learned the hard way not to speak to him unless he spoke to her first.

"We're going to stay here for a little while," Kratos told her. "No doubt your father will be looking for you…"

Bra thought it strange. From what little she knew of the Spartans, she assumed they never just waited for an opponent to arrive. Why, then, would Kratos stay here?

"So I suggest you get used to things here." That was when he got up from the table; moving away so he could speak privately with the tavern-keeper.

This gave Bra a chance to do some careful observation of the tavern around her. It was what she expected--men sitting around chatting while they were drinking with friends of theirs.

A few quite minutes passed in this manner, and at that point, Kratos returned to the table. "We're staying here for the night. Up the stairs there."

Bra began to protest, but a single glare from Kratos was all it took to silence her. This wasn't the time to start something with him.

She headed up the stairs, and into the room he pointed to. Thankfully, it had windows…but not a whole lot else. This…was not a room she was at all going to enjoy spending the night in.

At least it had two beds.

Wearily, she walked in and sat upon the end of one of the beds.

"Don't get comfortable," Kratos said to her, as he strode over to the window, taking a long glance out of it towards Olympus.

Bra merely nodded, and took the time to once more gaze over her hands. The stain had spread, confirming her earlier hypothesis that Kratos' touch was causing it to spread. But why _his _touch? What was so special about _his _touch?

She was dragged from her thoughts when Kratos suddenly grabbed one of her hands. "What is so utterly fascinating about--"

His eyes went to the edge of the stain, which was quickly gaining ground. Silently, he watched, letting go of her hand.

Upon noticing the spread ceasing, he once more took her hand, allowing his eyes to follow the progress of the stain.

Bra felt oddly tingly as the ashen color spread over her entire body; as well as perhaps a little achy, which was quite mysterious.

Nothing could have prepared her for what Kratos did when he looked up to meet her eyes, entire face was contorted in what seemed like a mixture of rage, terror, and…sorrow? Could she honestly have seen sorrow in his eyes? Next thing she knew was--one of his blades was at her throat.

"Treacherous little brat!" Kratos shouted, directly into her face. "Now I _know _you are a spy of the gods, for only they would know to send--"

"What the hell are you talking about--" she had begun to speak, but a quick nick in her neck from the blade (which produced a tiny trickle of blood) silenced her, and she sat very still, looking up at him, waiting for him to kill her. But why? What had she done to deserve death?

Bra began shaking, and after a moment or two, felt tears pricking at her eyes. She didn't want to die! Not now, not here! She couldn't…

It surprised her, then, when Kratos stormed from the room. Finally, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief! But now she had to figure out what had made him so very angry to begin with.

She noticed a mirror in the corner of the room, and rushed over to it. What she beheld was shocking.

Her hair was no longer a bright, vibrant blue--it was now a sort of chestnut brown, and her eyes were a similar color. Who was she?

"_Child…this is the last of my ability. With your physical changes, the last remnants of my spirit are spent. My soul…is your soul._"

"What…are you--" Bra felt nothing but confusion.

"_You still do not understand? You are me…we share the soul. I have…have done what I can, to ensure he…Kratos…my husband…will not harm you, but…the rest is up to you._"

"Tell me what to do! I can't…I don't understand what's going on!"

"_We share the same soul, but as you changed, the last remnants of my conscious mind were being spent. Soon it will be gone entirely…but I do not fret, for as long as you are with him, all shall be well_."

And with that, the voice ceased.

They shared a soul…this was so confusing! How could this possibly have happened? Shaking her head, Bra felt a rush of memories; the suffering the woman had gone through in Hades, Shenlong's rescue of her, and finally, her placement in Bra's stillborn body.

Finally, she understood, and with that understanding came an urgency: she had to find Kratos.

Rushing from the room, she tried to imagine where he would go. With the amount of time she'd spent checking her appearance and conversing with the voice, he could be anywhere by now!

Bra made her way down the stairs, and glanced around quietly; eventually heading over to the bar when she didn't see Kratos in the room.

"Did you see him? Kratos," she said, in a somewhat halting fashion.

"Said he was going to the statue. You know, of the new god of war. Vegeta."Bra rushed out of the tavern as quickly as her feet would carry her, and back to the statue--clutching the cloak tightly about her thin form.

She was relieved when she saw him standing angrily next to the remains of the statue.

"Tool of the gods…" he growled, turning his weary and grief-laden eyes towards her. It seemed as though he was drained of all resistance. As though her changes had rendered him unable to mount a sufficient defense in conversation.

This was not the man she'd met. This was a man in deep pain; who was desperately trying to hide it. But why?

Perhaps it was the spirit's influence, or perhaps it was simply her own pity; Bra knew not which it was that possessed her to take her next action.

She stepped closer, slipping her arms around him in an embrace. In her mind, she wondered if this was not the prudent thing to do--it could set him off, it could cause him to become violent…anything could happen!

In his mind, though, a different train of thought was occurring.

He'd been told by Apollo that this _whelp _was a vessel, that her soul was that of his wife's. It seemed that fate had dealt him a cruel blow, however, because she didn't seem to have any memory of him.

Yet…there was something about that fire in her that seemed almost…almost familiar. He couldn't place it; but the aura of desire for battle seemed almost tangible in the air around her.

Despite that he could feel within her a lust for battle, he felt also confusion--in himself! The desire for battle was--at least in his mind, reserved specially for men. Why, then, did he feel that hunger for battle virtually resonating with each beat of her heart? Why, then, could he sense in her the anticipation of battle and blood?

This ravenous desire, however, was raw. Untempered. He, as a Spartan, knew that raw ability was no good unless it was harnessed, pushed around, brought to the edge. It had to be forced into greatness.

Her family--

And suddenly, he remembered something.

"You mentioned your father…in connection with how strong you are," Kratos said, "Now. Why did you do that?"

"My father is the prince of a warrior race. They are now almost extinct, with a few pureblooded survivors left, and a precious handful of half-bloods."

"A warrior race." He seemed curious. Then there were other races like the Spartans? No, he could not assume that this whelp's words held any water until he heard more from her on the subject.

"They were born and bred to fight…losing a fight would only make them stronger, and naturally they grew stronger as they continued to spar. Their power increased either way.""And you?" Kratos asked.

"I was never allowed to fight," Bra replied, "Because my father viewed me as a delicate girl."

"That is how Spartans view women. They're not to fight, they are to be the rewards for those who fight."

"Well, maybe it's a good thing I'm not a Spartan woman, then. The women of this race fought just as equally as the men did."

"A foolish system. It is a waste of beauty."

"The women," Bra continued, "…needed to earn the respect of the men to be considered as a mate. My father tells me many tales of his race, this is but--"

"The women had to fight to gain the respect of a man?"

"Of course. If they fought particularly well or gained much prestige, they would have the approval of a number of Saiyan men. She would then have the pick of these; since a powerful woman meant strong children. This proved correct time and again and so the system flourished."

"Interesting," Kratos mused. So then, by this girl's system, she'd have to earn _his _respect. She would have no trouble passing the Spartan's strict standard of beauty, but to earn his _respect_? Such a thing hadn't occurred in his mind before. "And what other practices were there for this race?"

"There was the full moon. The saiyans had a tail similar to that of a monkey, and upon gazing at the full moon, transformed into an enormous ape. This would allow them to make short work of many of their enem--"

"And how did they return to their usual form?"

"A warrior or some other brave soul would have to risk life and limb…get close enough to the ape with a sword, and then cut the saiyans's tail off. This would cause the ape to transform back into his original form."

"And you're telling me all this…why?" Kratos, to be quite frank, looked rather bored. Though the idea of hearing of another warrior race was intriguing, hearing its intimate history was quite another thing entirely.

"I'm tired of hearing about you and your Spartan heritage all the time," Bra replied, "So I decided you'd hear about _my _heritage."

He supposed it was only fair, but he hated having to think of it that way, so he didn't. Instead, he spoke, "Your heritage, then, is being sorely wasted if you don't plan on training yourself." If she wanted to be a warrior, then she would have to suffer as most did in the name of being 'the strongest.'It occurred to him that her becoming a warrior was best for the both of them; if she were able to fight for herself--then he could assume that she would not die as easily as she had the last time.

And he couldn't lose the chance he'd been handed.

"Come on."

* * *

It was a long walk, and Bra was breathing roughly by the time they stopped, but she thoroughly enjoyed the walk nonetheless.

Ancient Greece had some of the most beautiful scenery she'd seen in a long time. The land was pleasant; untouched by technology, untainted by city projects, and full of wildlife.

"This is a beautiful place," she said, smiling as she looked around.

"I see you're not used to untainted scenery. You must have lived in a city."

"Yes, you're right…" Bra said, sadly, "There were trees only in a limited place, and…" she shook her head, turning away from him to look at some of the surrounding flowers.

He'd lead her into a clearing, where the sunlight had caused a variety of things to grow, not just the trees…and--

"We'll stay here."

"We're…staying…HERE--we can't--" Bra began to protest, but grew rapidly silent as she considered how he'd handled her complaints in the past.

"Defend yourself."

She didn't quite register his words in her mind 'til she felt a heavy weight hit her back--and then she realized. He'd _tackled _her!

So this was why he--

But she had no time to think, only to react. She tried to rise, but found his weight atop hers rendered her incapable of movement.

He seemed to rise quickly, and glared down at her when she sat up. "Don't _ever _turn your back on an enemy! That can mean death as quickly as any, for a turned back is an opportunity that no one will pass up! You _are _pathetic, aren't you?"

Bra growled, "I'll show _you _pathetic!" And then launched herself at him--putting the pressure on one leg to propel herself. Though by the time her body reached his (a span of about three seconds) he'd prepared himself--and caught her.

With one swift movement, he had her in an armbar.

"Also a poor technique. Anger is motivation, not its own weapon."

The strain he was putting on her arm was quite painful; and rightly so--a hyper-extended elbow was never very comfortable, nor was a face in the dirt. She couldn't be sure he wouldn't tear her arm right off, so she pulled her arm down with a monumental effort and rolled her entire body, thus throwing him off.

She didn't hesitate, and scrambled atop him. Her hands were clenched around his throat, and she was bashing his head against the ground repeatedly, attempting to knock him out with the blows.

Quickly, Kratos raised his knees--a motion that not only propelled Bra upward and over his head, but also landed her flat on her back.

"Ow…damn, that hurt…"

Kratos got to his feet, and didn't turn back to look down at her. "Do not depend on one technique for too long. A choke is only _really _effective when your opponent is already worn down. Same goes for slamming the opponent's head against the ground repeatedly."

_Growl…_

"Was that you?" Bra asked.

"No…"

There was the sound of crunching twigs just behind them, and Kratos (and upon seeing the shadow the ground, Bra) bolted to his feet.A bear had found them, no doubt due to the fact that they'd made quite a lot of noise during their fight.

It was enormous, at least fourteen feet tall, if not more.

"Kratos, you--" Bra began to speak but noticed…he'd gone. Had he fled? Had he--

And then the bear took a swipe at her, striking at her face--undoubtedly meaning it to be a kill shot.

It sent Bra flying into the nearest tree instead, and left her groaning in pain, watching for only a moment as the bear came lumbering forward and roared in her face. After a brief pause it swiped at her head again with one paw, causing a flash of pain to burn through her entire skull.

NO! Bra felt the voice well up in her mind. No, no! She was not so weak as this, and felt the anger building; felt her wrath burning hot... Finally, she released a yell; her power level heightening, as did her voice.

She wasn't sure how it happened, but in one movement she grabbed the very paw the bear had used to swat her, and flung it into the tree behind her…or, rather, through it and all the tree trunks within about a hundred yards.

Breathing hard, her eyes very nearly aflame with power, she turned to see what had become of the bear, and noted a wide path of destruction. She had most assuredly slaughtered the beast, it seemed...

"What...what the _hell _did I just do?"

Her eyes turned to Kratos, who answered, "You did well," with a haughty smirk on his face and a gleam in his eye she wasn't sure she liked. He turned his back to her, and seemed to be preparing a campfire.

"Get us some water," he said, non-chalantly, as though absolutely nothing of consequence had happened in the last few minutes. "Here's the water-skins, the river's that way."

Bra welcomed the chance to attend to something so mind-numbing and menial--it would take her mind off the fiasco that had just occurred. She took the water-skins and headed south, hitting the river after only about five minutes.

Peace.

Here, she felt completely unbothered and at ease. She wished she could stay, but no doubt, he meant for her to return swiftly. Even if she was taking time to admire nature, there were more important things to tend to.

Such as figuring out why he was wasting time with her like this.

What was he doing? What was this accomplishing for him?

She wasn't entirely sure and to be frank, wasn't sure she wanted to know at all. Perhaps this was something best left unbothered.

The water-skins now full, Bra took them and headed back to the makeshift camp, noting that a cozy fire had been formed. On the other side of the fire, Kratos sat, carving up the carcass of the bear.

_What is he_, Bra thought, _Some sort of an animal? Just look at his hands...they're covered in blood, they're..._

"Don't just stand there staring," Kratos barked at her.

Wordlessly, Bra sat next to him and joined him in cleaning the carcass of the bear, using bits of bone (sharpened to a point against his own blades of course) to cut off hunks of meat from the bear. Only for a brief moment did she want to retch; with a startling speed she realized that she was enjoying herself. She'd learned so much in the past week, and all of it from a man who seemed to go about everything he did with unending rage.

Her memories told her she could change this.

She hoped they were right.


	6. What Daddy Doesn't Know

"_She's beautiful…perfect." _

_The midwife looked over the results of the last four hours' effort. She had just helped a beautiful baby girl to be born, and while it was not the son she was sure Lysandra's husband wanted, she knew he would be happy all the same._

"_Where is my child?" _

_Lysandra heard the double-doors of the building being swung open to make way for her husband, and smiled when she saw him enter the room. "We have a daughter, Kratos."_

_Anger crossed his face only briefly as he looked over the newborn; but it soon passed into what could only be pride. "She is perfect; as all little Spartan girls should be."_

_"What should we name her?" Lysandra asked, watching an expression of puzzlement cross her husband's face._

"_Calliope," he answered, "It requires a bit more attention to say it correctly, and sounds more regal than most other names we could use."_

"_Calliope…" Lysandra said, holding her daughter tenderly._

_

* * *

_

"Wake up."

Bra shifted slightly, glancing upward as she felt a pain in her side. So he'd been kicking her again, had she really been sleeping that well? With a yawn she sat up.

"You said my name. Why?" he asked.

"I was having a dream…" Bra muttered, "I suppose it was…_her_…birthing a child…"

Kratos went rigid. "You are not to mention it again. At any rate, it's _your _turn to keep watch. Don't fall asleep."

She wanted quite badly to just snap at him, but realized that there would be no benefit from that.

As Bra watched him fall to sleep, she sighed, and then rubbed her forehead as she tried to think. Perhaps this quiet time guarding the camp would give her some space to think about what was going on.

It was all so shocking to her, even now, even with all that had happened thus far. She could still only wonder if it was all but a bad dream. So many things, unpleasant things, had happened, and she was more miserable now than ever she had been before.

At least, until she tripped over a block of firewood and struck her head on a large stone resting unobtrusively on the ground.

* * *

"Wake up."

The voice didn't belong to her mother, her father, or even Kratos. It was an uneasy, slick sort of voice.

Bra's eyes instantly snapped open and she sat bolt upright. Her body seemed to have responded all too quickly to the voice, and she found out why when her vision came back completely.

All color drained from her face. "I know who you are…Hades, right?"

"No, I'm the Easter bunny. Of course I'm Hades, has the Ghost of Sparta kept you that blind to everything?"

Bra tried to scramble from where she was laying, and stood as quickly as she could manage in order to face the God of death.

"What-what am I doing here? I didn't die!"

"No, no, that's true enough, you didn't." Hades' voice was quick, too quick for Bra to entirely trust. Then again, she seemed not to trust anyone in recent times, not even herself.

"So why am I here?"

"Well, perhaps I just wanted to inform you of a few things. After all, you don't know the Ghost of Sparta…"

"But the memories, I can see what he-"

"Well of course his wife would fill your head with good memories. Even if her mind's gone for a bit…"

"A…a bit?"

"You don't believe he wants _you_, do you?"

"But…"

"Quiet now. Just listen to the lord of the underworld, he's been around the block a few times, little girl!"

She was struck silent, and Hades took this as a cue to continue.

"Once he's killed Zeus, I evaporate too. Then he has the full run of things, and what do you imagine he'll do? He'll find a way to get her soul-that is, _your _soul-back in her original body. And then he'll destroy your body."

"He wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't he really? The Ghost of Sparta has done many things in the name of his wife.""But why not just-""-destroy you now? That would put marks in her memory. That would… 'bruise the merchandise' as you might say. So he simply waits."

"Her body is too scarred for that, I was told." Bra finally managed to get a word in, and was glad she had.

"Her body has been kept safely here," Hades replied bluntly, "As bait."

She felt…disturbed. Why would that part of the tale have been left out? Hadn't Apollo told her that Lysandra's body had been too badly scarred from time in the Underworld to be used again?

"Did someone lie to the little mouse? It's not surprising, really. Everyone will benefit, except for you. Kratos gets his perfect little wife back, but you lose your body, and your mind, pretty much. You do know he's only keeping you around for that reason, don't you? Until he has Zeus taken care of? And then, WHAP!"

Bra was shaking, and tried to turn away from Hades. She couldn't bear to hear him speak any longer.

"Look at me, little mouse," she heard him say, "You can end this. He might have to get hurt, but you can end this…"

"How? I…I don't know if I want it-to-""Hush, hush. Listen to the lord of the underworld."

Sighing, Bra did. What use was there in protesting?

"Now, you're probably very enamored with him. Facts are facts; big, strong men are very attractive to little women who don't get out much. But this man's certainly the worst of the lot. You don't need someone like him around. He takes what he wants without hesitation and if you think he'd be anything like your father, you're wrong."

"How do you know-"

"You think I haven't met him already? Everyone knows the new God of War. Ah, yes, fine lad, bit young for the job, but as warlike as ever anyone could be. Of course, all he's concerned with is getting you back. It'd be a pity if he thinks you're really interested in the Ghost of Sparta…"

"You can't possibly-"

"But I'm getting off subject. Now. I'll send you back, but…" Hades drew out a little pouch, and opened it to show her. "Slip him these in his food, and your problems will be over. _Don't. Eat. Them._"

"But what're they for?"

"You'll see." he said, placing the pouch in her hands and closing her fingers over it. "I believe you can do this. You should do this. Otherwise you are dooming yourself, little mouse."

* * *

That was when Bra came out of what she thought for a brief moment was a mere haze; a lazy moment.

She realized the talk hadn't been just her imagination, though, when she noticed the pouch in her hand. When she opened it, she saw what appeared to be seeds of some kind. Noting that Kratos seemed to be waking up, she quickly hid the pouch in a pocket, before turning to him.

Hades' words hung over her as she watched his nearly-awakened form.

Would he really destroy her so callously? Would he really be so cruel?

"What're you staring at?"

She heard his rough voice and felt strangely relieved, and looked at him with a slight smile. "Thought I heard something, but I didn't."

"It's good that you're aware of your surroundings, then. After all, the snap of a twig could just be a squirrel, or, it could be an enemy waiting to strike. Treat every snapped twig and sound as if it were coming from someone wishing to kill you."

"Must you continue to school me this way?" Bra smiled briefly, but this kind gesture was met only with a sneer.

"At any moment," he said, "The gods could rain down terror upon both of us. I would prefer not to have to chase you into the depths of the underworld…"

"Why would you do that?" Bra asked, "My mind is not the mind you want. Surely you would rather leave me to burn."

"I would not do so, to someone who could hold her own in a battle. You are but a doppelganger, however…I would be pleased to keep around a woman who could be useful in battle."

_In other words_, Bra thought, _He dislikes the idea of having the likeness of his wife around, but he would prefer to keep me close because I COULD prove useful in battle. What an arrogant, boorish man he is!_

_But, _her mind seemed to remind her, _Does not your father have the same qualities? Perhaps this is merely history repeating itself. Your mother loved a man of war, perhaps you, too, shall follow the same direction._

_A Spartan, though…_she thought, _Spartans, they know little if anything of love. They-he couldn't. Not after what he's been through. _

_But…you could change him. Your mother changed your father, after all…_her mind seemed determined to set her on this path, but she still had her misgivings.

_My father was different, he was-_

"Stop staring off."

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Kratos in his usual irritated manner, glaring at her like a general at a new soldier. "We're not going to stand around while you do nothing. Now let's go. We're going back to town."

"Why do we keep going in circles? First town, then here, and now town again?"

"The 'new' God of War," Kratos said, with a contemptuous sniff, "MUST be dealt with. Since you seem to be known by him so well, what better way to draw him out? After all, a hunter does sometimes have to bait the quarry."

"So that's all I am, bait?" Bra replied, anger filling her eyes. For some reason or another, that statement absolutely infuriated her even more than some other things he had said, and even done.

"Why would you be anything more? While you may have the look and even the same soul, you are not the woman I seek, and you never will be."

It suddenly seemed as though she was drowning in an ocean of sorrow. Lysandra's memories overpowered her, and she began shaking in what was quickly turning into wrath.

"You drag me out here," she started.

"Do _not_-"

But Bra interrupted him. "…you may have saved me but that does not mean you can treat me as your personal little bait, your _puppet on a string_, to be used for whatever you please."

"Listen, woman-"

"No. YOU listen." Suddenly, a bolt of energy crackled around her, and she felt her anger take on its own power. "You…will not…."It was then that she started screaming; as her hair seemed to take flight for only a moment, before turning a bronze shade, as the crackling of energy seemed only to increase until she was nearly covered with it, Kratos realized this girl was, like most things he'd seen, not to be taken at face value.

He sprang into action immediately, lunging at her and receiving a kick in the face for his efforts.

Then Bra's frenzy began. As she repeatedly punched him, she would attempt to show him that his criticism would be accepted no longer, and she would fail…for though she'd ascended to super-saiyan, her power was nearly useless. It was untempered, untrained, and would serve her no good against a trained warrior.

It certainly helped that Kratos knew how to take a hit. Blow after blow he seemed to absorb, with no end in sight to his endurance. He knew all he had to do, was wait, wait, and watch, for her to become exhausted.

But on and on Bra went, swinging her fists furiously at his face, trying desperately to injure him in some way…

* * *

Bra would be awakened by the splash of icy water on her face, as well as a coarse and familiar voice.

"Wake up. You've certainly slept long enough."

"Mmmph…what…" Bra sat up, rubbing her forehead in an ever-so-exhausted way. It seemed that they were back in the same town, in the same inn-and, oddly, in the same room they'd used before. "What…what happened?"

"You can't say that you don't remember. Not with a battle like that."

"I don't! Not after whatever it was you did that made me so angry…"

"Perhaps the stress was too much for your tiny mind, then," Kratos replied dryly. "I'll tell you, then. I angered you, and you started fighting me like a bastard, with a rage I haven't seen since my reign as the God of War. Your endurance was astonishing, especially for a woman. You may yet be useful after all."

"A blackout is not useful. Doing something and then forgetting can be deadly."

"I can only agree, and will add that your temper could be the death of both of us. I'm going back towards Olympus, and you're going with me. I will wait for your father no longer; if I meet him on the way up, so be it. You will keep your temper in check."

"Odd thing for a Spartan to say," Bra said, laughing for a few seconds before Kratos' harsh glare caused an immediate silence.

"You will not make light of my kind, young one.""In case you've not forgotten…I come of a warrior race as well, but I've certainly heard of you Spartans. You existed even where I came from.""Really, what do you know of us, then?"

"I know of one tale of your kind, when you fought the Persians." The story of _300 _came to mind immediately. Though she knew the movie over-glamorized things, there was also the fact that the entire concept was based in fact.

"Tell me, then."

"The Persians tried to demand a gift, to 'protect' Sparta. They simply required a tribute, and that would be that. But the king at that time, a man named Leonidas, refused this repugnant offer and soon incurred the wrath of the Persian king, Xerxes. A massive army was sent, and was met by Leonidas, and his 300 men. Every last Spartan died, but the Persian army had incurred such losses, and suffered so much as a result, that-"

"That they knew better than to try again," Kratos finished for her. Her stunned silence relayed to him that he was correct, though she would say no more on the issue. "And what else do you know?"

"That you have a brutal method for, as my world might put it, 'separating the men from the boys.' Sending a young man out into the wilderness and having him come home from it a warrior or not at all…that…that might be rough, but…"

"But you do know it is the best way to see who is up to the challenge, who is best, and who is not. And it's by this method…that marriage is determined. For the strongest of Spartans gets his pick of women, all willing to be wed to a man so strong."

"Because she would feel safe with him?" Bra ventured, feeling that she was beginning to understand at last. An odd thought occurred to her at that point.

Was this, she asked herself, why her mother had been so attracted to her father? Security? Was it that he could obviously protect her from any danger? Perhaps so. She'd always noticed that whenever Bulma was being hassled, and Vegeta came to the rescue…there was always that light of shining admiration in Bulma's eyes. There was always that happy aura around her-

"How many times…"

His voice snapped Bra out of her thoughts as it had so many times before. "…have I told you, not to let yourself get distracted that way. Deep thought can get you killed."

"But we're not on a battlefield…" she said, in a soft tone.

"True enough…"

When Bra stood to face him, there was a rare silence. As their eyes met, she saw sorrow in his eyes for the second time. It seemed almost to be covered by his rage at times, but in silence such as this, was plainly obvious. It was, then, no wonder to her that he seemed to so dislike the quiet. He didn't want to have spare time to think. He didn't want to be alone with himself.

Before she could stop herself, before logic and reason could kick in and stop her-Bra kissed him.

His lips were cold, and for a brief moment, unresponsive.

So many things, she thought, could be going through his mind, but she chose to focus instead on that single kiss.

At least, that _had _been her intent; until his hands started to drift southward, with one arm wrapped tightly about her waist, keeping her pressed quite closely to him.

An unfamiliar burn was already taking hold of her. It wasn't a painful burn, quite the opposite in fact. It was a pleasurable burn; one that already had her in a delightfully torturous grip, despite-That was when he parted with her, but still kept her pressed closely. Their eyes met once more, and this time-this time, his eyes were filled with something quite different. This time, it was the same desire she seemed to feel.

Despite her inner misgivings, despite her collective common sense screaming at her to not do this, Bra kissed him again.

This time, he was ready for it. Though he was quite unused to a woman taking the lead, he would be sure that he would take charge for the remainder. No woman had yet bested Kratos and he sure wasn't going to let such a thing start now.

He knew, of course, that she was quite inexperienced, and it irritated him to some degree. Why, he wondered, couldn't she have been someone who knew what she was doing? But then, he told himself, he would have the _pleasure _of showing this innocent girl just what it was like to be pleased by a _god_.

As Bra found herself quickly pushed down, her back to the bed, her face looking up at him, she realized what she'd been missing during her sheltered life. Company, and not just in this intimate way, either. Not that she would be complaining about what was soon to follow.

The even slight amount of anxiety felt before vanished under his guidance, and pushed her into a state of euphoria once the initial pain had passed. Every touch, every movement would send a shiver up her spine and rouse sounds of delight from her throat, as well as banish from all corners of her mind any semblance of regret.

He took charge with such confidence that she could do nothing more than give him an affirmation he was doing well. This meant only that she was staying mostly silent, as she knew that talk would only ruin all of this.

No real words would be spoken; the action at hand was more than enough to speak for them both. A moan would be heard here, a grunt there, and a lot of rapid breathing would fill the spaces in between as they continued. And indeed, she could find no words suited for this, nor could he-not that they'd have spoken anyway.

It was like nothing shed ever felt before, that was for certain. Allowing herself to fall like that, allowing herself to give in to him…would have, at any other time, made her feel like the lowest of low. But now, of course, allowing him to meet his needs, and to fulfill hers as well seemed to be working perfectly.

As all good things go, this too had to come to an end, but what an end it was!

Bra soon after felt exhaustion washing over her along with the immense delight and intense satisfaction. She saw on his face a similar sort of expression, and their breathing would slow as they lay side by side. Rest would soon take priority, and both were soon asleep.

* * *

"Artaxes! I am tired of these useless-" Vegeta was, needless to say, less than pleased. Many hunts had resulted in no findings-and he was sure that any day now, this Kratos would decide that Bra was of no use. Any day now, he'd been told by Zeus, this man would assuredly bring about her death.

"I apologize," Artaxes said. He was speaking quietly, despite the fact he was at least a foot taller than Vegeta. Respect he seemed to have, or perhaps it was demanded, but either way he gave it to the new God of War, to whom he'd sworn loyalty. "But this time…he has been seen for sure."

"Then take me to him!" The saiyan prince's voice came out like venom at this moment, as Artaxes turned to lead him off. "This had better have results or you will not be lucky enough to live to regret it."

The saiyan prince would stop at nothing to see his daughter's safe return.


	7. Just a Dream

Author's Note: I'd like to take this chance to thank Morrigan, a dear friend of mine who has helped me tremendously. Without her I might have wrecked a lot of the Greek element of this story. And also, I'd like to thank Chuck, who's helped me to avoid wrecking the DragonballZ side of things.

* * *

Bra woke early, mainly due to a throbbing pain in her head. She wondered for a moment where she was, and what she was doing there…but she could figure none of it out. The room was unfamiliar and her vision was too blurry.

"Miss Briefs?"

When her vision cleared, Bra looked up to see four doctors standing around her bed, all of whom were watching her eagerly.

"Miss Briefs? Can you hear us?"

"Of…of course I can. Where am I…?"

"West City General Hospital," said one doctor.

"H-how long have I been here?" Bra was shaky, for more than one reason. Not only was she home, but-no. No, it wasn't possible.

"A few-"

"Bra?"

She heard her mother's voice from the doorway and looked up to greet her, smiling only a little as she did so. There was something about all of this that thoroughly unsatisfied her, that made her wish she hadn't woken up.

"Bra! You're awake! Oh thank goodness!" Bulma ran over to hug her daughter, tears running down her face.

"Let the girl breathe!" Vegeta spoke as he walked in a few seconds later. "She just woke up from being out for days from a fever, and…"

"Fever?"

"Y-you developed an…we brought-you were found quite a few hours after you were stabbed," Bulma said, her words coming in segments, "…and…and as a result you developed an infection in the wound. Then…then you got this fever…"

As they spoke, the doctors checked the vital signs monitor and then left, as Bra was doing fairly well at the moment.

"Finally. I thought those vultures would never leave!" Vegeta grumbled as he took a seat next to Bra's bed.

"Vegeta, they're doctors. They're the reason she is even still here!"

Bra shut her eyes to block out the bickering, and tried to make sense of all this. It wasn't fair, she told herself. It just wasn't right. Traveling with him for days, being trained by him, even sharing his bed…and now it would all turn out to be just a dream?

"Bra? What's wrong?"

She looked up at her mother and father, shaking her head. "I…I'm just…I had this…dream…"

"Dream? Was it that bad?" Bulma asked.

"No, no…! It was…I just…there was this…man, and…"

Vegeta's expression went foul instantly. "And you did something stupid. Bra, we've told you, there's no point in-"

"But!" Bra started, "But father, he was…he was like you, he was a warrior…he kept me safe, and…and I just…"

"Oh, he must have been one hell of a man for you to go on about him like this!" Bulma said, a bit dreamily.

"Oh…oh, he was, mother, he was…"

"Let's not hear any more about him, alright?" Vegeta asked, "We're here to help you get better, not discuss…things that happened while you had a fever."

"But father, if you'd only seen him…he was…he was so much like you!" Bra was already grinning. "I mean, he was bald, but-"

Bulma giggled. "Well, baldness never determined how good a man was, but…"

"-but he was _ripped_. He was one hell of a warrior," Bra kept going on, "He was just…" she lay back, shutting her eyes as she spoke. Was it all so quickly fading? How could she be losing the details already? How could she forget a man she'd fallen into bed with so easily?

"Well…fever can give us some strange dreams, or in this case, some great dreams," Bulma smiled down at Bra. "But that's all it was, a dream, Bra."

Bra would say no more to her mother. How could she? Once more she looked up at her mother, who kissed her forehead and sat back down.

"Vegeta," Bulma said, "Go tell the nurses to get her something to eat, or drink at least."

Time passed, and Bra watched the clock closely as it did. Hours upon hours her eyes rested on the damnable minute hand, which seemed to taunt her as it continued to make revolutions.

She went through the motions, though. Pretending to be excited when she was finally given some flavorful food, pretending to enjoy the company of her friends, pretending to enjoy watching television for the first time in ages.

_Dragon's Bride _and _The Tower Maidens _brought her no joy at all, and they had always been her favorite soap operas. Why, she wondered, why? Why was it this way? She was home! Wasn't that where she was supposed to belong?

_But things are different now… _said the same old voice in her mind. _You're falling in love…aren't you?_

Bra turned to bury her face in the pillow beside her. _He's not real…_ she thought, _It was only a dream…only a dream…it's not…he's not…_

Again, her mind answered. _You know what you feel, and you could never feel that for someone who is imaginary. You know the truth…_

_Just a dream…_

"Bra?" she heard her mother's voice again. "Bra…are you alright?"

"I'm fine, mother…just tired…" She lied, as she'd done so few times before. "…and thinking about my dream…"

"Bra…please, try to understand. It was only a dream. You need to understand that."

"I do…" Bra sighed, shaking her head. "You just…don't understand. That man that I spoke of…he was more than just a hero, though he did plenty of heroic things for me. Saved me from Hades, the flames of torment…he was teaching me to fight, and…I-"

"It was only a dream. Please, see what I am saying. He's not real, he never will be, and you need to accept that."

"Mother, he-" and suddenly, Bra was gasping for air, and watched as Bulma sprung forward.

"Bra! BRA! What's wrong?"

"Mother, I can't-I can't breathe-I-" Again, she gasped.

Suddenly, everything changed.

"Wake up! WAKE UP!"

Her mother's soothing voice was gone, and in its place was a familiar rough voice. The bland white hospital walls were replaced with woody ones, and the stiff hospital bed was replaced with silken sheets.

"WAKE UP!"

A set of hands were placed around her throat, and seemed to be trying to shake her to her senses.

"K-Kratos?" Bra could not have imagined a more joyous thing than to see him again, and was relieved as well when he took back his hands. It was this overwhelming bliss that caused her to cling to him in rather a tight embrace, which he seemed to reject-for he pushed her away.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked, "I woke to find your skin like pale ash…your pulse, slow-"

"I don't know! I don't know. All I remember is that I woke up…home, where I was, before I was here, and…and they were trying to tell me, that this was all a dream…that you didn't exist, that this-"

"Quiet yourself. The gods are playing tricks on your mind."

"Why would they-"

"They do not want you to become close to me."

"I don't expect you to allow that, so why do they worry?" Bra asked, regretting that she asked the question, the moment it passed her lips. She was still trying to work out how best to speak to him, how to calm him. It was a battle learning about him, and was one she seemed to lose at times.

"They worry about anything," he said, "That would bring them down. Anything that is-"

He paused then, and got out of the bed. "We've wasted enough time. You're going down to the market, alone. Get some supplies for our trip up Olympus. I've no doubt you can handle yourself well enough to avoid trouble for that long."

"Of…of course, but I-" Bra was protesting, until he thrust what seemed like a bag of gold into her hands. For a moment she wondered where he got it, and then realized-as much fighting as he did, he'd probably looted more than one dead body. A Spartan made use of everything, after all, didn't he?

"Be quick. If you are not back within the space of an hour and a half, I won't wait for you."

"O-okay," Bra replied, turning away from him and getting dressed once more, before she pulled on her cloak. Up came the hood, which would hide her face, and off she went.

She still had so much in her mind to sort out after the previous night's events. Never before had she done anything so impulsive, and yet she felt no regret at all. She was happy with it, she would change no part of it, even if she could. Yet there was a part of her that was worried…

What would her father think?

No doubt there would be _more _than hell to pay-he still thought of her as his sweet little girl that knew nothing of the world, she was sure of that. It would be difficult, then, for him to learn that she wasn't quite so naïve anymore.

Bra's shopping trip didn't take very long. She managed to grab more than enough food for the road ahead-or so she thought, at least. Hard biscuits, meat likened to jerky, some stray dried fruits, and plenty of water skins were all the hardiest items she managed to get in the way of provisions.

As for other supplies, she got a little of everything for the climb, but made certain to obtain one item in particular: rope.

"_You'll be wanting rope," _she told herself, _"Because as sure as the world, if you don't get it, you'll be wanting it._"

This gave her plenty of time to get back early, just in time to be greeted with another sneer.

"You came back too quickly," Kratos said in an irritated tone. It seemed that his anger at her presence had turned to annoyance.

Bra decided that was a good thing, and handed over the supplies she'd bought. She watched while he carefully sorted through the food, and glanced over the rope and other supplies-hoping he'd have something good to say.

"Let's go." With that, he stood and walked past her, expecting correctly that she would follow him.

* * *

"Have you seen this girl?" Vegeta stormed into the inn, thrusting a photograph of Bra into the face of the innkeeper. He'd been searching for far too long, and his patience was wearing thin. Any moment now, he thought he'd find her lying dead, bloodied, burned-who knew in this time?

"Once…a…a little while ago. A few days. She's not been here recently!" The innkeeper spoke with a fearful air, for he (as well as everyone else) knew Vegeta. How could one not?

"What about the man traveling with her. What about him?"

"He's been here too. J-just left this morning!" the innkeeper was shaking by this point, so fierce was the glare directed at him. "W-with another woman."

"Where were they going?"

"I-I don't know! Th-they had supplies for a long j-journey, a-and something…some rope, and I-I think someone heard-"

"I know that man," said one of the patrons in the room. "That's the Ghost of Sparta. He'll be heading up Olympus. Better hope he's not got that young woman you're looking for."

"And why," Vegeta was in front of the patron in seconds. He grabbed the man by the throat, and hovered up, lifting the man a good few inches off the ground in the process. "Why is that?"

"He's-" the man was obviously struggling for breath, and through this struggle, as well as fear, grated out his words. "-he's a killer. He…he…! He murdered…he's killed, women…children…he's…he can't be-"

A quick _snap _and soon all life was gone from the man.

Vegeta dropped the body and left the inn. No. No, he would not let his daughter suffer for this. He would not let this Spartan be the death of his daughter. He'd saved her too many times before to let her go so easily this time.

* * *

"It's going to be a long road ahead," Bra said, looking up the treacherous path and shaking her head. "But of course, we'll scale it in no time."

For once, Kratos seemed to have nothing to say. From this, Bra assumed she was beginning to get on the Spartan's good side. After all, any minute he wasn't snapping her neck or giving his blades a tour of her body was a minute he was considering that she was worth not killing.

"Once we reach the top. Stay out of the way." he turned to her as he spoke. "They will all say, and do, whatever they have to."

"Whatever you say."

The trail was thin, and considerably more difficult than Bra had expected. Every step had to be chosen carefully as she followed behind him, often exactly where he'd stepped. This made for a quiet climb, for who could talk when they were too busy negotiating their steps on tricky terrain?

After a few hours, they stopped, and Bra brought out the food. "Let's see," she said, "…if we ration it out just right…I think we have enough for seventeen days."

"Then we'll have to move far and fast. Now, GO." This seemed a useless sentence on his part, because he was the one leading. He seemed not to notice it-but then, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

So she followed him, wordlessly. The dusty trail was eerily calm, which did her already worrying mind no good. While silence would be welcome on other mountains, it was quite the opposite for Olympus. Stillness here seemed designed to unnerve any who happened to travel here, to keep them away.

"I can't understand it," she said, speaking quickly, unable to bear the silence any longer. "Why such silence?"

"He's watching us. You would do well to stay quiet."

"I thought you wanted to face my father. In that case, don't you want-"

"Be quiet."

She sighed, shaking her head. This man really didn't enjoy talking, but then, she'd learned that before. Why was she so surprised at this? It was nothing new, absolutely nothing new. It was certainly something that had been confirmed over the previous night's events when not a single word had been spoken. He wasn't good with words and wasn't willing to mince them in order _to _be good with them.

"Pay attention! These roads are treacherous."

"Gladly," she said, and noted that they were coming up to a thin ledge. It was a good distance long, perhaps thirty yards. Without saying a word, Kratos began sidling along it-the distance was not too far for him, after all-since he had certainly crossed longer distances this way.

Bra followed him, or at least, tried to. The footing was terribly tricky, and while he moved along with the utmost confidence, she faltered at every step. She'd never been a big fan of heights, after all. Every step, she cursed that she'd never learned to fly.

She felt her heart drop when she noticed the slight crumbling of the ledge's stone at her feet. Shifting uneasily, she tried not to think of the treacherous drop, and tried to think instead of the path ahead. She'd be fine, if she could just reach the end, as he had.

Despite the crumbling, she kept her cool, and continued edging along the ledge until she reached the opposing side.

Kratos glared at her, but the pair continued on, up the rough path. For several hours, they traveled in silence, with Bra occasionally glancing skyward to check on their progress. It was extremely slow, to say the least-but then, this was Olympus. Slow progress was extremely good considering the dangers that lay in all directions; and up most of all.

She walked after him, and spoke suddenly, needing to break the silence, "When do you believe we'll stop for a meal?"

"When I can't go on without food any longer," Kratos replied a bit harshly, but not overly so. It seemed his patience with her was beginning to form. "The same will go for you."

Bra merely nodded, though she squirmed inside at the unfairness of it. No food, until he deemed _himself _hungry? Did he never think of her? For that matter, would he ever think of her?

The path was treacherous enough, but easily negotiable by the day's sunlight. However, as night began to fall, a fog of sorts rolled in. Their pathway was largely obscured and without waiting to be told, Bra began to follow directly behind him, staying close-for her own safety of course. A fog was dangerous enough without stumbling around blindly, as she knew she would without him to follow.

After an hour of this quiet pace, Kratos stopped dead in his tracks. Bra walked into him, and stumbled back, muttering apologies-and looking up.

"What is it?" Bra asked, glancing up. She gasped when she noticed the entrance to what seemed to be a palace of sort. Winding up the path, conforming to it quite a ways up. "How-why-who would-"

"Quiet," Kratos replied. "It is without doubt, another trap. You would do well to follow closely."

"I'm already doing that, if you hadn't noticed…"

Kratos thrust open the doors, and looked around the long hallway that curved upward along with the mountain path. "So," he said, "My suspicions are confirmed."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the art on the walls." Kratos gestured to both sides.

Bra glanced at the sprawling mural on the left side, biting her lip as she noticed the first figure. It was her father, immortalized in art, painted as he struck the latest in an army that seemed to be attacking him. Blood was featured prominently across the mural, which depicted an ever-lengthening battle. A battle with Vegeta encountering army after army, and each time emerging victorious.

As they continued down the hallway, Bra saw etchings of planets razed to the ground. All buildings, plants, life, were destroyed by Vegeta's own hands; captured on the wall in detailed precision-precision that could only have come from an artist's masterful hands.

"Clearly," Kratos said, "Your father wants to send a message."

"Clearly…" she replied, her tone faltering. She'd been told in passing of her father's bloody past, but had never before seen the details captured in such a way. Seeing so much life laid waste was creating a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and yet…

And yet, there was within her a feeling of jealousy.

Bra peeked around every corner, causing more than one grimace from Kratos. "That is hardly helpful," he said, "Stay behind me."

"I thought you wanted bait."

"I told you to stay behind me."

Sighing, Bra obeyed. She wondered anymore why it was that he seemed to change so much from minute to minute. His plans could surely not be changing that quickly. One moment, he wanted her as bait; and the next, he wanted her safely behind him. What, she wondered, was the motive driving him to do this?

They would finally pass into what could only be called a bedroom; for in its corner, was a bed.

Never did Bra find herself so relieved to find a bed in all her life. The trip up the mountain with the heavy stores of supplies had thoroughly tired her out, and she thought only of rest.

"Shall we stop?" she asked, praying with all her might that he would say yes.

Kratos merely nodded, and watched with some disapproval as she set the supplies near the bed. "Put them under it," he said, in his usual harsh tone. "Thieves exist even on Olympus."

Tiredly, Bra would obey, pushing the bags under the bed as instructed. She yawned, and climbed up onto the bed, and would sit there looking back at him.

As tired as she was, she was far from ready for sleep. Though her body demanded its well-deserved rest, all that she could think of was the well-muscled man standing before her-who was in fact watching her intently, almost as if he expected something. _Perhaps_, she thought to herself, _perhaps I should delay sleep, in favor of what is obvious he needs…and I want._

Temptation won over fatigue, and she would quietly extend an invitation to him, to join her. It was funny, the things one could convey with a single look. But then, it was one of many things she'd managed to learn from him.

With the pain now absent, Bra would find the feeling again; the feeling that all her troubles melted away in his arms, the feeling that she was safest with him.

The feeling that he had all the power to torment her in the most gratifying way possible, in a way that he couldn't have managed if he were a gentler lover.

It seemed to have taken hours, though she was sure it had not even taken one-and as she curled to him afterwards; weariness finally taking over her body, she felt something more.

His arms, completely around her. Holding her close to him.

So many things ran through her mind, and the least of them was that she could not have been more lucky a woman. Here, here was a man who would defend to the end what was his. A man who was not only a compelling warrior, but also a masterful lover.

A man she wanted to keep, despite the dangers. Despite everything that would fall upon her if she continued to remain at his side. Despite the fact that she knew he would never feel the same.

So she did the only thing that she could at that moment to show her comfort with him, considering the exhaustion that plagued them both. She moved closer, rested her head against his chest, and breathed deep a sigh of satisfaction. Then she allowed herself to fall to sleep-feeling the most secure she'd felt since she first met him.

And he looked down on her, feeling not the same security that she felt. Instead, he felt confusion of the highest order. She was not the girl he'd suspected her to be. She was becoming useful at a variety of things, and had done well at pleasing him…and was even eager to do so now.

It still hurt, of course. Bra still resembled Lysandra; and every time he looked at her, he saw a ghost of his past. But with her there, he could-for a short time-feel human again.

* * *

"Artaxes, this had better work." Vegeta was sitting quite angrily on the throne provided for him, glaring across the room to a sort of pool.

"My lord, a scrying pool is ideal," Artaxes replied. "As long as you have seen what is-"

"I know what a scrying pool is," he replied shortly, and decided to test the pool, and would soon have it giving him a visual over his entire palace. All seemed calm throughout its halls and the one or two guards he deemed worthy were patrolling carefully.

Still, something felt wrong, though he couldn't quite place-

And then, the pool's image moved over one particular section of his palace. And he saw someone he knew to be his daughter (for though her looks said otherwise, her energy, as it were, was that of Bra).

Comfortably tucked into the arms of the man he'd sworn to kill.

"My lord-"

A death-glare from Vegeta silenced Artaxes as he watched his master race away.


	8. Guile

Bra was awake shortly after Kratos was, and was out of bed and ready to proceed in just a few minutes.

"You're improving," he said, casting a sideways glance at her.

She merely nodded, knowing he wasn't much for conversation, and grabbed the supply bags from under the bed.

Without any further preparations, onward they would proceed, their steps echoing throughout the relatively empty halls in a daunting manner. Aside from this, the familiar silence of their travels followed them.

Bra had begun to accept this silence, but to be quite honest-still wasn't a fan of it. How was she supposed to learn anything about this man if he never spoke to her? Perhaps that was the point, but…

She was broken from her thoughts by Kratos, who pushed her back into a small alcove along the wall. "What was that f-"Interruption came then in the form of his hand, pressed tightly over her mouth."Stay here." he said quickly.

"But-"

Suddenly, Kratos would go flying down the hall-apparently having been hit by someone who promptly began pounding at the Spartan with furious fists.

Bra stepped forward. She already knew-but she still hoped that perhaps she was wrong.

No such luck.

Her father was attacking Kratos with a rage she'd never seen before, but one that she'd rather expected nonetheless. The most savage of punches were aimed at the Kratos's face and neck, and seemed to produce blood right off the bat.

Of course, the Spartan was not taking this laying down-despite how the odds seemed stacked against him, he was trading blows back. His rage met Vegeta's in a terrifying manner; and Bra would only be able to watch in horror as the two fought.

After a startling few minutes, Kratos was able to get back on his feet, and he swung both of his blades at Vegeta.

This caused rather a nasty cut on Vegeta's neck which began immediately to bleed (though not too profusely). The Saiyan prince growled as he noticed blood dripping onto the floor from the wound, and then launched himself at Kratos, who stepped aside at the last possible second.

A chain from the blades was flung around Vegeta's leg and with a strong effort he pulled it back; sending the Saiyan prince into the wall.

Bra took this moment to stand between Vegeta and Kratos.

"Get out of the way, Bra."

The voice that issued forth from her father's throat was not in a tone Bra cared to hear. There was definitely something off, something wrong, with her father.

Besides the fact that she'd been keeping company with a man more than twice her age.

"Father. Nothing is wrong. Please, listen to me," Bra said, facing her father with only a small measure of fear.

"Nothing is _wrong_?" Vegeta asked, stepping forward, his fists clenching. "You disappeared. This man took you, and-"

"Father, he didn't take me," Bra replied, trying to reason with him, "I went with him. He's-"

"Defiled you!" Vegeta clenched his fists.

"Father, please," Bra was trying again to reason with her father; though she was not willing to openly lie to him. After all, she had shared Kratos' bed, and there would be no hiding that, would there?

"Get out of the way, Bra." He growled as he clenched his fists again; so tightly this time that his fingernails broke the skin and began to draw blood.

"Father, please. Listen to me-"

"I said, _**get out of the way**_!"

Bra tried to step forward, and her father gripped her by the shirt collar and flung her aside; a motion that would send her crashing through the outer wall.

And down, down, down, she fell; with the noise of the fight muting after only a few seconds.

It felt like the fall took an eternity; the rush of wind as she fell seemed to so tax her eyes that she was forced to shut them.

Gradually, the air grew warmer and much more acrid, and she opened her eyes again due to the sheer assault on her scent of smell.

Rocks. Arid wasteland. And far below her, but fast approaching-a river.

A cold feeling swept over Bra and she knew she could not land in that filthy water. With a sudden deep breath, she braced for impact and flung her arm out to grab hold of the cliffside.

A few rocks scattered as she did so, but she forced herself up and onto the small ledge. Breathing hard, she glanced only briefly over the cliffside, noting the long drop. Then she turned her attention skyward.

_Steel your mind, Bra. You've got to focus here._

Despite her agony; the fatigue that was mysteriously setting in, she felt determined, and with a grueling effort, climbed up-and over the top.

Finally, she was on flat and solid ground again-ground she would have kissed were she in a better mood.

"What am I going to do?" Bra asked no one in particular, though the air after she spoke became uncomfortably tense. So she took a deep breath and took inventory of her surroundings.

Or she would have, had she not been interrupted by a most unwelcome voice."What are you going to _do_? Why, little mouse…" The slippery, grimy voice spoke with quite a degree of confidence, and took only a minor pause before continuing. "…you're going to not worry your pretty little head about that!"

"Hades!" Bra called out suddenly. "What are you talking about?"

"Just what I said! You're not going to worry…just let my harpies do their job, and you'll have absolutely nothing to worry about!"

"What do you-"

"Hush, my little mouse. Hush. Soon you will see…"

Bra gulped at that, not at all liking the way that Hades was speaking. What did he mean, she wouldn't have anything to worry about? And what did the harpies have to do with this, that he bothered to mention them?

And besides all that-how had this happened? How could her father have thrown her aside so quickly? What had his intent been in that? Perhaps, she tried to reason with herself; perhaps he had underestimate his own strength.

Or-

Bra suppressed a scream of pain as quite suddenly a set of talons gripped her shoulders, tearing the fabric of her shirt and drawing more than a little bit of blood. She had to grit her teeth to bear the pain as the beast (she presumed correctly, that it was the harpy that Hades had spoken of) lifted her from the ground.

She kept her eyes wide open as the harpy struggled to stay aloft; and tried not to think of the drop she could be facing if the creature lost its grip on her. So, for this reason, she clung tight to its legs.

Until a few moments later, when over a small stony platform it let go of her-or tried to, anyway. Bra was still holding on to its feet, and only after a few nasty cuts from the beast's talons was she forced to let go.

The impact hurt much less than she thought it might, and so she got up, glancing blearily around her. Then she turned, noting how it had assisted her in crossing a large chasm…

"Aww…"

The greasy voice had returned. "Don't look back there. Look forward. Just keep walking. You'll find me. Then you won't have to worry."

"I don't need your help, Hades," Bra spoke, forcing the fear from her voice.

"Oh, but you do, you do!"

At that point, Bra merely scoffed and continued walking, for the first time able to take in her surroundings.

She'd been here before, though only briefly. This time, though-this time was much worse. The dry air was already providing dire irritation to two senses, and on top of that, there was the unbearable heat.

And the hunger.

She had had some brief sustenance at the beginning of that day, but the time had passed quickly, and by now she felt the empty pangs. The land, however, was barren, and she saw no sign of there being anything even remotely edible.

"You've grown."

The voice sounded vaguely familiar to Bra, so she turned to see the owner of the voice. What she saw startled her beyond belief.

Standing before her was what seemed to be an older version of her father. But-there were obvious mistakes; like a goatee, a cape…things her father would never have tolerated on his person.

This had to be…

"Grandpa?" The word felt strange to her, for this man was someone she knew only through her father's stories. How was it that who he was, was so obvious? How could she have figured it out so easily? And how, for that matter, could he recognize her? Wasn't she-

"How do you know me?" she ventured softly.

"Everyone speaks of you here," he replied, smiling only briefly. "The woman who's taken a place at the side of the Ghost of Sparta. The woman who travels and fights alongside him. The daughter of the new God of War."

"A fine warrior I turned out to be," Bra replied, "I was merely tossed into Hades like a rag doll."

"Your father merely forgot himself. It happens to warriors of all kinds. Even yourself."

Bra nodded, remembering the time when she'd fought the bear. There was a blank spot in her memory pertaining to that time, and she still didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Why are you here?"

"Here?" he asked.

"Here, and not…in the 'Next Dimension,' or the 'Other World' or 'HFIL' or whatever they're calling it these days..."

"That man known as King Yemma was certainly _going _to send me there," King Vegeta replied, "But just as he was about to stamp the paper, this odd little woman with a crystal ball appeared. She told him to stop, to send me elsewhere, that she'd seen that I would be needed soon enough."

"Baba," Bra said, smiling briefly.

"So that's her name. Who is she that King Yemma would listen to her so quickly?"

"She can see the future," Bra replied, "And she's extremely famous because of it, so much so that even one such as Yemma, who lives and works far, far away from Earth, has heard of her."

"A good point."

Bra paused, looking over the man before her. Surely, he was like a virtual clone of her father. Here was a man who obviously lead her father to have his massive ego, his monstrous pride.

But he'd been a Prince. Such a thing was expected.

"Grandfather," she asked quietly, testing the word uncertainly, "What exactly are you set to do here?"

"I do not know," He replied, "I will presume that it is to defend you."

"But…" Bra took in a quiet breath at that moment. "I hardly need defending."

"You've not heard the Lord of the Dead speak of you," her grandfather answered. "Like a toy, like a doll, like a possession that he simply cannot do without. Your resemblance to his former bride seems to speed this process of thought."

"You talk too much."

Overhead, the same greasy and unpleasant voice sounded off once more. "Honestly, why don't you keep quiet and let the mouse-"

"Stop calling me that," Bra growled.

"Oh, come now, I thought pet names were well-looked on." There was a laugh then, and then silence.

"Creepy," Bra muttered.

"Men of his kind always are," her grandfather replied. "Men who've not fought before. Men who can't get a woman on their own. Cowardly men."

"Me, a coward?" Hades' voice seemed greatly amused by these words. "I am not the one who has lived in shadow for many a year. I am not the one who hides in the darkness like you! And you call yourself a warrior."

"I have-"

Bra raised a hand. Something had occurred to her. Perhaps…

"I'm willing to listen," she said, looking up. "If you are willing to lead the way. I've no knowledge of your lands, after all."

"Bra," her grandfather asked, rather gravely, "What are you doing?"

Bra shot a look at him. Then she glanced back upwards. "Hades, are you still listening?"

"Of course, of course!" Hades' voice seemed to be jovial now, "Just follow the harpies, little mouse."

She glanced upwards, and noticed the creatures flapping about overhead. This, she thought-this could be easier than she thought. But, she told herself, it was important not to overestimate herself. Though she was beautiful, she was still quite new to the art.

So she walked on, guided by the trail of the creatures.

"What are you thinking, Bra?" her grandfather asked. "Are you so quickly going to change your loyalties? Are you _mad_?"

"Guile, grandfather, _guile_," she whispered. "A Saiyan can understand that, can't he?""You're playing a dangerous game, child," he replied. "But if you think that it's going to work, I'll have to trust your judgment."

"I know it will work, grandfather."

She would continue walking, though her grandfather began to fall behind as time passed. He wasn't given a second thought, of course; as she was more focused on the palace she was growing closer to with every step.

Horrific scenes were carved into its outer walls. Hades, directing souls to Tartarus, to their torment. Hades, preparing tortures for various great and mighty souls, and those not so great.

"This is my power, little mouse," came the voice once more. "I direct the fates of those dead, no matter how great or small they are. Even your Spartan will one day fall under my power."

"Of course, Hades," Bra said, smiling as she stepped forward and lay a hand on the door to the palace.

"Step back, step back. Don't want you to be hurt by the door opening."

Bra obeyed, and the door would lower.

Silence.

She stepped forward, her footsteps making no noise in the hallway (for she'd long since left her boots behind).

Her grandfather did not follow her; nor could he have followed, for once she made a few steps down the hall, the door would shut behind her.

"You needn't use such tactics," she said, "Really, now."

"Precautions, my little mouse, precautions. Can't have you changing your mind, now can I…?"

She would find her way, gradually, through a maze of hallways, and to a room with only a single light; a fire-pit in the center which emanated a rather strange glow.

"So. You've-"

"Of course. What could a Spartan offer that the Lord of the Underworld couldn't best?" Bra asked, turning towards the corner of the room, where she noticed Hades standing.

"You're quite a bit smarter than I thought you'd be," he said, "Normally, girls like you are easily lead along by warriors like him."

"And for a while, I was," Bra replied, "Though I assure you, it was only out of necessity. I was defenseless, and he was the best way out of that situation."

"You were weak then. But you aren't now," he said, smirking and giving her an appraising glance.

"Not so fast, my lord," she said, smiling meekly. "All in due time, of course. I have but one request for you first."

"And what is that?"

"That you bathe," Bra said, "It has likely been a long time since the last time. Since you've had a lot to do, with this…Spartan roaming about. Since in your realm, losing one's sense of smell is necessary to the survival of one's sanity. I mean no offense to you, of course, but as a woman…"

"You prefer it this way. Silly women and their hygienic nonsense," Hades replied. "If it will get me the companionship that I have missed for so long, then, of course."

There was silence as he walked out of the room, and towards a room down the hall.

Bra followed, and stepped into the same room. It was filled with shelves, upon which were various bath-related items. Bottles of scent, towels, and changes of clothing lay in a scattered array.

And in the corner, dropped haphazardly (obviously discarded in a rush), lay the Claws.

Bra smirked. She was close, but she didn't quite have this done. No, getting him into that other room was only half the battle.

Without-

"Little mouse, really. Attempting to steal glances! I would have thought a polite young woman would've known better."

"I don't plan on it," Bra said quietly, standing with her back to the door, and her eyes resting on the Claws. They were beautiful weapons, she thought. The hooks glowed a brilliant purplish hue, and held her attention quite well. She reached down, hands gripping the chains.

She stood for five minutes. Eight. Twelve. Seventeen. And finally, after that long and agonizing silence, she heard the door opening again.

"Overwhelmed by the magnificence of the Claws, are you?" came the same voice. "Well. They'll soon be the least of your worries."

"Come into my lair…" Bra said, steeling her mind.

"Said the spider to the fly," Hades answered, stepping forward. He raised his hands to her shoulders, and-

Bra turned, as quick as a flash, whipping the Claws around and hooking them quite firmly into him. With one giant leap back, she pulled the chains with all her might, and watched as the ethereal, ghostly soul of Hades was ripped from his body.

Not that it was an easy fight, of course. She had to struggle for every step back, and her focus held only because the room lay in a deadly quiet.

It all depended on her ability to stay strong. Though her muscles were screaming in agony and begged for a reprieve, she continued to pull the chains, until finally-

Hades was gone, and the Claws became suddenly so strikingly hot that she simply had to drop them. "What the…"

A few moments later, she reached down and picked the Claws up once more.

Then she turned, and walked back out, down the silent hall, and out the front door.

Her grandfather was waiting there, arms crossed, and with his back to her. "It certainly _took _you long enough."

"No time," Bra replied, "I've got-"

"-what?" he asked. "Got what? What the hell did he-"

Bra started walking, completely ignoring the spirits and harpies flying to and fro; aimless, without guidance of any sort. Chaos ruled overhead and she paid it no heed at all. She had chaos of a different sort to get back to.

Then she saw the cliff face.

And rope.

A length of brownish-gold rope, simply hanging there.

_That's…odd_. She pulled on the end of the rope, to be sure that it wasn't going to simply fall into a pile on the ground, and then began to scale the cliff face; the Claws' chains firmly wrapped about one arm while she did so.

The climb seemed to take forever; with ten, twenty, thirty minutes going by. It was at least an hour before she saw the dusky mountain path again.

Finally, _finally_, she could get a breath from cool, fresh air; and not from the putrid and humid air of the Underworld.

"You idiot!"

Bra turned to look up the path and bolted, hoping she could get back in time. But, in time for what? How long had she been gone? What had transpired since her departure?

She noticed upon entering the palace once more that there was a trail of blood. She felt a sudden chill, and tried to keep herself calm. Blood. Well, that was to be expected, wasn't it?

Perhaps the fight was over.

What if…

No. No, it wasn't possible.

Couldn't be.

Bra began to run then, and felt the adrenaline course through her veins; pushing her to move more and more quickly.

Then she heard it.

"Give up." Her father was clearly winning; she could tell just from his tone. "Give up, and I'll make this death a quick one."

There was a congested cough from the other voice, and nothing else. Bra could virtually _hear_ his lungs struggled to provide him with just the slightest amount of oxygen.

She rushed forward, her own lungs screaming for relief, but getting none. Her father was standing over the near-lifeless, beaten, bloodied, and very nearly unmoving body of Kratos.

He stood, smirking, his fist drawn back for one final blow.

"STOP!"

Vegeta suddenly turned to see her, and looked utterly shocked at it. "Bra! You're-"

"Stop, please. Please, daddy, _stop_!"

"And why should I?" Vegeta raised a brow. "Hmm? Give me a good reason not to."

There was silence then.

"Because I said so."

King Vegeta stepped forward at that moment; arms crossed, brow furrowed. "Because things could go very badly for you if you don't." Then, with his head, he indicated the Claws that were tied quite firmly to Bra's arms.

And from the bloody heap came laughter.

"The Claws of _Hades_?" Vegeta turned to glare harshly at his daughter. "And just how did you get _those_?"

"There was a sale at the mall." She rolled her eyes. "Now. Step away from the man on the ground."

"I don't need to be defended." Again, the bloody heap seemed to speak. Kratos raised his head; features barely distinguishable through the mass of bruising, the cuts on his face, and so many more injuries. "The Claws of Hades. Well, it looks as though I underestimated you."

"You should be-" Bra said. "-how long have I been-"

Without batting an eyelash, he responded, "A few hours. He's not stopped since he threw you off the mountain-"

"I certainly didn't mean to!" Vegeta protested. "I didn't-"

"Be quiet," Bra snapped. "For once in your damn life be _quiet_!"

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

She felt the dam break completely. "You think you came this entire way to _save _me? That you're doing me a favor here! The man lying on the floor a bloody mess has rescued me from many more dangers than you and you beat him to pieces! You beat the only man on this entire mountain who doesn't want to see me dead!"

"But Zeus-" Vegeta began.

"Was lying like a rug!" Bra growled. "Lying. That's what he does, that's _all _he does, is lie! He's trying to kill Kratos! Did that work in? Did it? He wants Kratos dead? And you still get to be a god."

Vegeta grew very quiet, his eyes turning towards Kratos.

"If that's the truth, then…" he said, "…then there's a lot to fix."


	9. Unfaltering Faith

"We'll take a short break here," Vegeta said. "Bra's going to need-"

"Absolutely nothing, father. Why're we stopping?"

"Tch." Vegeta looked none too pleased at this, and briefly glanced over Kratos. "Perhaps we should stop for his benefit."

This earned him a hard glare from Kratos.

"Now, now, my son," King Vegeta said. "...do keep your temper in check. Save it for the one who has most deceived you."

"We've stopped long enough," Bra interjected. "Let's go."

"Bra!" Vegeta replied rather suddenly. "Zeus is quite close, I don't believe you should be so eager to charge away. He's going to have a considerable force-"

"If you are suggesting giving in to fear, I-"

"I am suggesting no such thing!"

"If we're all done with this petulant arguing," King Vegeta said, "We should be going."

"I would prefer," Vegeta answered, "If Bra would-"

"It would make me too good a target, father, and Zeus knows this." And with that, Bra would glance up the hallway. "How much further to the top?"

"Not much longer, which is why I suggested that you stay behind. I do not wish for you to get in the way."

"I have come this far with Kratos, I will not be cast aside now because you seem to think I'm incapable of-"

"There will likely be other gods around as well," King Vegeta added. "As I recall, not so many have died. This will be a challenge, and even-"

Bra had shut her eyes during this argument, and stood aside. She'd sensed something approaching, and wondered if she could concentrate, and better flesh out what it was.

She sensed massive numbers. And heard hooves.

"Minotaurs," she said suddenly, her eyes still closed. "Coming down the corridor ahead. Another group is coming from a side corridor."

"I certainly don't recall ordering-" Vegeta interrupted briefly, but sensed the minotaurs as well.

Bra readied the Claws, and Kratos readied his Blades as the hallway began to tremble.

The individual sounds of hooves meeting with stone paled in comparison to the rolling chorus made by the combined sounds.

_Thoom-thoom...thoom-thoom..._

"How many are there?" Bra asked.

"Numbers do not matter," Vegeta replied. "I shall see to it that they-"

"Do _not_ overdo things, father. If you attack too harshly you may well bury us all."

"I know what I'm doing, Bra! Get ready to attack. They're-"

_ROAR! ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAR!  
_

The minotaurs charged forward and into their line of sight.

"What the hell does he expect to-" King Vegeta started to speak, but had no time to finish-the Minotaur legion had reached them.

The battle was not nearly as hellish as Bra expected it to be. When she was busy cutting down minotaurs-snapping one of their horns off and impaling them with it, for example-she had no time to be frightened, no time to wonder how she would die and how painful it would be.

And no time to see how well the others were cutting through the oncoming ranks.

She had a vague idea, though, that she wasn't as close to the others as she had been when she started this fight. When she looked up-having just cut down two minotaurs with the Claws-she noticed that she was halfway down a corridor; and certainly not the main corridor filled with all of the artwork of Vegeta's past conquests. No, this was a darker one not meant for frequent travel.

Then it occurred to her that they were _trying _to force her down it-but by then it was far too late. She was in the midst of the room at the end of the hall, fighting for her life. But no matter how many minotaurs she cut down with the Claws, there was another to take its place. Dozens fell, but dozens more surged forward.

She could feel her muscles screaming in agony, but she set her teeth and continued to fight, trying to ignore the numerous slashes that came to her from any number of axes. One or two of them even had clubs, and were bashing her across the head with them which caused her vision to blur severely. Her blows began to falter in strength, a thing that did not go unnoticed by the minotaurs.

One of the last things she remembered before blacking out was being grabbed by the hair, stood up...

And having one of the minotaurs charge-as a bull would-and knock her straight out of the window and cast many feet down onto some steps. At that point the pain was too much...and she lost consciousness.

* * *

When next Bra woke up, she felt silken sheets above and beneath her. A pleasant scent was in the air; and her skin as well as her hair felt damp.

As she lay quietly, she wondered if perhaps she was home. A bed. She hadn't slept in a decent bed, with good sheets and comfort such as this, for...who knew how long? As the thought passed from her mind, she shifted slightly, and turned to rest on her right side. When she did that, she briefly opened her eyes.

And before her lay a woman.

"Good morning, beautiful," the woman said, smiling and stroking Bra's face. "...did you sleep well?"

"Wh..." the utter confusion hit Bra, _hard_. "Wh...who...what..._where on Earth_..."

The woman pressed a finger to her lips. "Now, now. After the beating you took, young one, you need a little break. Why, it's lucky my attendants found you at all!"

"Whoever you are, I thank you, but I have a battle to be getting back to; if you'll excuse me-" Bra began to get up, but noticed when she did that she'd been stripped. Quickly, she pulled the sheets back up over herself. "...where are my clothes?"

"I had my attendants clean them for you. Surely you understand, a beautiful young woman like yourself...shouldn't have to go around in bloodstained clothing! Barbaric...of course, I do like barbaric, but all the same..."

Through all this flattery, Bra remained quiet, compiling quiet clues in her mind as to who this strange and flirtatious woman was. Then, when it finally came to her, she chided herself mentally for not figuring it out sooner.

"Aphrodite," she said carefully.

"Ah! So you _do _know who I am. Good, good," Aphrodite grinned at her briefly. "And you, I know you. You are the one the Spartan has chosen. Ah, and how could he not? Such beauty you possess. Albeit, beauty likened to that of his former love, but then, looks are looks to the Spartans, despite how similar some may seem."

"He did not choose me, Aphrodite." Bra was still trying to figure out how to get to her clothing and continue with her journey. Perhaps if she played the waiting game, the attendants might return with her clothes. "He hardly cares for me at all."

"Ah, that is not what I have been hearing, and quite frankly, feeling. Have you forgotten who I am, darling? I know love, in all of its forms. And it _is _love that he holds for you. You fulfill all of his expectations and have yet to hurt him."

"How do you know that I have fulfilled his expectations?"

"Again, love...ask yourself, have you forgotten who I am? I know all that has gone on between you and the Spartan. Do you hear me?" And here, Aphrodite leaned closer, so close that Bra could feel the goddess's breath on her ear. "_Everything_."

Bra felt shivers go down her spine. She looked away in an attempt to stave off the growing discomfort.

"Are you still cold?" Aphrodite's tone had changed. She moved closer, and turned Bra's face towards her own.

"No, I'm...not." She was lying, of course, but thought in some way that the lie would help her situation.

"Your skin is still so clammy from the rain..." She traced Bra's jawline several times, and smiled briefly.

"I _really need to_-"

"Darling, you need to relax..." Aphrodite's tone grew slow at that moment, and Bra could almost feel the goddess's surge of concentration setting itself on her. "Really...take a moment, breathe in, and let your worry fall away."

Bra obeyed and took in a deep breath. As she did so, she felt a surge of physical desire and her only thought before giving completely in to that delicious madness was whether or not that was what Aphrodite meant to happen.

* * *

When Bra came to her senses, she pushed herself up.

The room was empty. _Good, _she told herself, _Too much is at stake for you to be laying around in Aphrodite's room, no matter how divine you feel._

_Shouldn't you have thought of that before you got cozy with her? _She found herself answering back.

Bra looked around the room, and noticed her clothing, freshly washed and still drying, sitting in one corner. One more glance around the room (to be certain that no one was around to see her) and she bolted towards them. Never before had she gotten dressed so quickly, and she hoped never to have to do so again.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

"Bra? What are you doing?"

It was Kratos' voice.

"I was-"

But before Bra could say much of anything, she heard a familiar voice say in a most pleased tone, "Spartan!"

"Aphrodite." The pleasure was minimal in Kratos' voice, and Bra feared the worst in his reaction. He would find out, and he would not be kind about it, she told herself. How could she have been so stupid?

"Oh, it is _so wonderful_ to see you again, Spartan. Pity you weren't here earlier, you would have made an excellent addition to our interlude."

"I do not have the time for this." he said, crossing his arms.

Then Vegeta stepped in; his anger almost tangible in the air around him. "Aphrodite, you're going to _pay _for what you've done to-"

"Calm yourself," Kratos said. "She-"

"Saved Bra's life, it looks like," King Vegeta stepped in at that point.

_Wonderful, just wonderful. They're all getting a front row seat to my lowest moment, _Bra thought to herself.

"That does not excuse that she used Bra like a-"

"Oh, please, all of you. We do not need to fight, do we? No, no," Aphrodite said. "The feisty girl is safe. No harm has come to her...but perhaps it is a hint of jealousy I hear in your voice, God of War?"

"You hear only _contempt_, Aphrodite," Vegeta snarled.

"The girl was cold and clammy! I have merely warmed her up..."

"Bra," King Vegeta said. "It is past time to leave."

"Oh, you can't leave her here? How disappointing."

"YOU be quiet!" Vegeta snapped, then casting his disapproving glare over Bra. "How you could ever lower yourself to this point is beyond me."

"If...I may interject..." King Vegeta said suddenly. "We've no time for bickering. Our fight will have been for naught if-"

"I know that," Vegeta replied. "Bra, we have a fight to win and you are wasting-"

Bra tied her hair back and headed back outside, ignoring her father completely. She climbed up the side of the mountain and back in through the window she fell from the night prior.

* * *

An hour later, they were at the very top, which was barren.

"We walk this length of road to get denied an audience?" King Vegeta asked.

"He'll be here," Vegeta replied. "I know he has other things to tend to at this moment, so it may be some time before he returns."

"Such patience you have learned, father," Bra said, dryly. "Where did you pick it up?"

Vegeta cast an angry glare at his daughter. "I did not come to have you taunt me, I came to rescue you."

"I was already rescued, father, and need not be rescued any longer. Once this is over, I plan to-"

"What? Die like the rest of them?"

Bra, Kratos, and Vegeta whipped around to see the source of the voice, which had come (they thought) from King Vegeta's direction.

But he wasn't standing there any longer. Instead, they saw Zeus.

"What have you done with my father?" Vegeta asked angrily, glaring hard at Zeus.

"Your father?" Zeus asked, laughing. "I have done nothing to him! Perhaps I have saved myself trouble, but I have not harmed him. You were quite thick not to see through it."

"It was you," Bra said. "But why?"

"Motivation," Zeus replied. "I wanted your father to get here, I wanted to be the one to end this...with both of them."

"Then end it I will!" Kratos leapt at him, blades drawn.

Zeus traded blow after blow with Kratos, drawing a sword of his own and parrying nearly every blow the Spartan dealt to him. After a moment's pause (and perhaps time for his rage to be kindled), Veg

Behind Bra, there was laughter. Two more gods had appeared, one with curious blue marks on his face, and another with a glowing head.

"So, battle begins, and where is the little one left?" the glowing one asked. "All alone, and of help bereft!"

"Quiet, Hermes," the other said, "There is no plan to hurt her, and no need to."

"I got rid of your brother," Bra said, looking to Poseidon. "I assume you will be just as easy to dispatch..."

"Perhaps I would be. But, I seem to be forgetting something..." Poseidon said, placing his hand thoughtfully on his chin. "Oh. It's that."

Before Bra could turn around, she felt a harsh blow on her neck and the world around her faded to black.

* * *

_There was never any chance for you to succeed._

A voice in Bra's mind seemed to stir, and she tried to muster a protest, to no avail.

_Kratos will fall to Zeus...as all fall. And you...you will be here. You will live here...forever. You will...never..._

Suddenly, Bra found herself forced up. Her head spun, but she had a vague impression of someone standing her.

And through the fear that came with the thought of one over her, Bra forced herself to her feet, and back against the wall behind her. "Ide...Identify yourself. Now."

She heard only a groan overhead.

Once her vision cleared, Bra would look up. A man was suspended there, in chains. "Who are you?" she called out. "Why have you been placed here?"

"I..." A maddening voice sounded off at that moment. "...I am...Deimos. And I..."

"Deimos?" Bra asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but she said nothing more. For the moment, anyway.

"...I am imprisoned...I wait for my...brother."

"Who is your brother?" Bra called out. The man looked delirious, but judging from what he was suffering, she reasoned that she would be too.

"Kratos..."

"Kratos is your brother?"

Now _that _was certainly a shock for her-every single time she thought she had a handle on the situation, something else popped out at her. Would there ever be an end to it all?

"You know of him."

"He's...we-" Bra began to speak, but noted that Deimos seemed unable to move. She reasoned that if she freed him, perhaps...well, she didn't know. But in the bitter air and suffering atmosphere of the place, she would far rather have company.

She thankfully found the Claws of Hades still slung over her shoulders, and swung them at the chains. The first blow did nothing. The second blow had the chains quailing, and the third broke them entirely.

Deimos plummeted to the ground and Bra rushed forward to see if he was alright.

He rose to his feet after a few minutes of waiting, and fixed her with a glare that she met with equal vehemence.

"And who," he asked, "Are you?"

"My name is Bra," she replied, "And I suppose you would call me your brother's consort."

"He has time to fool around with women when I suffer-"

"Your suffering surely is present in his mind!"

"How could it be when I remain here? I wait. I wait for him to return, but he has never-"

"Perhaps he wishes not to endanger you while he has so much to-"

There was laughter in the air at that, and a winged god appeared on the edge of the balcony a moment later. "Yes, your brother has...many more important things to tend to, than you, Deimos. You are not-"

"You had best be quiet," Bra said to the god. "I have slain a god already, and I do not take kindly to those who slander someone I love."

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. A Freudian slip if ever there was one. But before she could explain herself, the god laughed.

"You slew one who came after me. I am ancient, child, even by the standards of Olympus. I am Thanatos. I will not fall so easily as he did." Then Thanatos seemed to laugh. "You will learn in time, child. When despair claims your spirit and your soul begs for release, there will be none. There will be nothing left for you but despair and fear for that which you love...which will forget you in time."

Then he turned his attention to Deimos. "Of course...misery deserves company." Then he leapt from the balcony and flew off.

Bra lowered her head briefly, but then looked back to Deimos.

"You had the fortune to slay a god," he said, seeming almost to struggle with his words. "And yet here you reside."

"Where...is here?"

"The realm of Thanatos...purgatory, in other words."

"And how did you get here?" Bra asked.

Deimos would take a small amount of time to explain-how he was kidnapped and sent there, and by whom he was sent.

"Your brother will come for you," she would say after it all. "...once Zeus has fallen. Once the gods are defeated."

"Defeating the gods...does he not realize his folly? I could-"

"A Spartan would appreciate help from a brother...but he is perhaps too short-sighted in his quest for vengeance to think about you. For the moment, at least."

"And you. What about you? Can you bear the thought of being unable to leave this forsaken realm?"

"Kratos will come for me."

"He will, hmm? Let us see how you feel when the years go by. Let us see how firmly your resolve holds when your youth has worn away, leaving you bitter and alone and with no chance of salvation."

"He will come."

* * *

The days passed in relative calm. The ill feeling in Bra's stomach lead to many...nights?...of restless sleeping, and her dreams were filled with visions of Kratos-visions she was sure were manufactured for her torment. He would be seen standing in front of an unusual box one night, and in front of some gates in Hades the next.

On one morning (if one could call it that in a world of perpetual cloudiness) she would see Deimos standing over her as she woke.

"You were calling his name."

It was stated calmly, as if...

...as if he understood, at least somewhat.

"I was dreaming of...of a night..." Bra stammered.

"You love him, then. I hear his name from your lips every time you sleep. It's..."

"Bothersome...I...I am sorry." She would take the Claws at that, and mark another notch in the wall. "His memory is all I have to cling to. All I know has been torn from me, and I feel..."

"...as if part of you has been ripped away. Incomplete..." Deimos finished.

"We understand one another, then."

"Yes...we do."

"When he does show, Deimos...and he will, I have every faith...you can be assured...he will give Thanatos a painful death. He will make the god beg for death...every hurt you have suffered will be repaid to Thanatos tenfold."

"Faith," Deimos said. "That is something I have not had in..."

"...in many years," Bra replied, nodding her head, somehow knowing. "Faith is all you have right now, so you should hold fast to it."

Deimos would go silent at this moment.

The days would continue to pass, and Bra noted that the passage of a month had occurred when she counted the notches on the stone wall. Had she truly been there so long? How could silence and gloom go by so quickly?

Especially when one did not eat.

Food.

How she missed it, even when she lived without it! Even a single square inch of bread, or drop of water, would have been enough, but none was there to be found. She took note of Deimos' daily rituals and began to spar with him on a daily basis, so that sleep could fill the better part of the day.

It was torment, but it was growing more bearable with company, despite fact that the company rarely if ever spoke. Like Kratos, once an understanding was beaten out...there was really no purpose in idle chatter.

She would notice the passage of a second month, and then a third, but held fast to her belief that Kratos would come.

After waking on the second day of the third month, and sparring with Deimos, the two would stop for a brief rest.

"Do you still cling to foolish hope?" he asked.

"I do," Bra replied. "He will return for us. You will see."

_So many torments, _she thought to herself, _What more must I suffer through before I see him again? How much is enough in this place of suffering? When will it end?_

But her torment had only begun.


	10. When All Else Is Lost

_"...I couldn't make much sense of what the oracle said."_

_"Just tell me what you know, I don't care how fractured it is, and get it in order."_

_"A box...ills of all...hope...the only clear part was in reference as to hope being passed to another."_

_"The Oracles must be afraid."_

_"They do not fear you...they know you work only for their good! Their words are never quite clear."_

* * *

"I don't get it."

It was four months since Bra had awakened in the gray world, and today was the first day that she had been beaten quite so soundly by Deimos. He had beaten her every day that they'd sparred together, true, but today's loss was especially swift.

"Nor do I," Deimos replied. "I have noted that you usually last longer." He paused at that, and then sat down, as did Bra. "Tell me of your travels with him."

It was odd timing for a request. But seeing that neither of them quite felt like continuing in another round of fights, and seeing that she could think of nothing but Kratos anyway...she would go ahead and start talking.

"I met him on the island," she said, smiling briefly. "I woke up there...and after some short events...I was nearly killed by Zeus." She went on to speak to him about how she had fought with Kratos, and finally, she finished speaking with the events leading up to her appearance there beside him.

"If you speak correctly...you seem to have vastly improved. But you should not so easily admit your weakness."

"I have admitted no weakness...that I am aware of."

"From what you said of your behavior, you are used to luxury. Your dislike of what traveling affords you is something that is sure to-"

"I no longer desire luxury," Bra replied. "...I do not care about the clothes I used to wear...the silks I used to sleep on...and...and all that other stuff! I don't care about that anymore."

Deimos only nodded.

Bra turned away at that, and found herself gagging. _Wonderful. Yet again! _she thought to herself. Something about the air had disagreed with her, and she'd found herself vomiting a good deal of the time, and was mystified as to how she continued to do so despite not eating.

"Your sickness still has not passed, I see," Deimos replied. "Though why Thanatos would elect to strike you with disease-"

"I am...I am the..." Bra was dry heaving at this point, and trying to reach for her water skin.

"Perhaps you have simply not the constitution to survive this place."

"I have the strength! I can...I simply..." Deep breathing came at this point, as well as a twinge from her stomach. "Great..."

Deimos was ignoring her, and so she said no more.

There was laughter overhead at that point. "Sick little girl...perhaps it will persist...would you like that? Would you like to die from illness?"

Bra ignored the laughter-frankly, she felt too nauseated to think about much other than what was causing her sickness. But it didn't help.

"You _would _enjoy that, wouldn't you? To leave this wretched realm and end your torment!"

Bra didn't answer, a thing which seem to cause Thanatos to grow bored. He flew off, and Deimos inclined his head to her briefly.

"Hades was just as bad as he," Bra said, "And I dealt soundly with him."

"You are overconfident."

"And you have no faith."

"When you suffer as I have, for as long as I have, you will learn."

Bra would go silent at this, and try to ignore the message behind what Deimos was saying. When would her faith break? How long would she be there before her hope gave out completely? Was believing that Kratos would come for her a waste of time?

Time would pass on, with the weeks passing like lightning-and Bra would find herself invigorated, rather than fatigued as she had been before; and to her utter relief her sickness seemed to have passed. As the fifth month of her imprisonment came to a close, she realized she'd filled the one wall's surface with her marks of the days, and that she'd have to move to the next wall. She did so, and made another mark.

"It gives me something to do," Bra said to herself, turning towards the balcony's edge and looking over it. "Shouldn't I have methods to entertain myself? Things that help me cling to my mind?" She paused at that, then said, "No...I shouldn't need to do this...but I do. I need to be sane when he comes for me."

Silence again.

Then, Bra leaned against the balcony's railing. She felt something in her stomach again, more than a twinge, but she wasn't quite sure of what it was. She started to reach into her pockets for something, forgetting that she didn't _have _pockets anymore. Her hand brushed against something under her garment that was attached (as it seemed) to her thigh. It was hard, like metal; and she wondered how she'd not noticed it until now.

She moved into the room behind the balcony, and pulled up the hem of the skirt so she could get a look at what this thing might be.

A garter. It was a garter.

It had a shape on it like something between a U and a V, with two curly bits on the bottom and left side, and to see it on her thigh gave Bra something of a scare. Since when did she wear such things? When had she ever thought to wear something so provocative?

The reason came to her a moment later. Aphrodite! It had to be Aphrodite...yes, she was sure of it now. That had been the only time she spent in this...dimension?...that she could not remember completely. But why would the goddess give her such a gift?

She tossed it aside at that moment, as it had grown quite uncomfortable.

At this point, Bra could take more notice of her body. Her thighs seemed to have enlarged, a fact which she was none too happy about, and her belly had expanded significantly as well.

_I look like a ripe melon..._ she thought sadly. _What on earth have I been eating, that I started looking like this?_

She sighed, let her skirt back down, and was about to go back to the balcony when she felt the same movement within her stomach again.

It was in that moment that Bra connected the dots. The vomiting, the tiredness (and then the opposite), and the movements within.

She was pregnant.

The very thought caused her to become consumed with fear. Such a thing couldn't possibly have happened at a worse time. She was imprisoned in a purgatory, unknowing of when Kratos would return, unknowing of if her father was even going to return, unknowing of when Thanatos might suddenly pop up.

How could new life possibly come to exist in such an atmosphere of despair and stress as she had been living in for so long?

As she walked back onto the large balcony, Deimos asked, "Are you going to be ill again? If so, do it over the edge. The scent of this place is repugnant enough without your adding to it."

"No."

Bra went to her usual seat; a small rock by the edge where she had taken to sitting so that she could watch the sky. It was a small comfort that she indulged in that seemed to bring less and less comfort as time went on.

"How long?"

"How long what?" she asked.

"How long have you been with child?"

Bra lowered her head. "I believe it happened just before I arrived here. Your brother and I-"

"I know."

"How did you-"

"You don't need to know that. The important thing is that I know. Strange that what I thought was just a simple girl would be the one to bring a piece of my brother back to me."

Bra remained silent, but nodded in agreement. She would then quickly fall to sleep.

* * *

The sixth and seventh month passed without incident, and Bra realized it was the longest she had ever gone without speaking a word-to anyone. She couldn't have felt any more alone if she had wandered off to Mt. Paozu and gotten lost in its woods, and the loneliness was becoming altogether too much to bear. Her faith was certainly shaken now, and fear was beginning to set in. She was going to give birth soon enough, and she was going to do it without her father, mother, friends, or Kratos around. There was no one here whom she could trust, and it set her to tears many nights in a row.

As the eighth month wore away (again, without a word from either her or Deimos), she began to fall into despair. Surely by now they had all forgotten her. It had been far too long and if they were going to find her, and help her, surely they'd have done so by now.

Right?

The ninth month came, and Bra found herself staying in the room behind the balcony more and more. She simply didn't feel like worrying about whether or not Deimos might actually speak to her, or whether or not Thanatos would show his face or do something to make her torment worse. It was far easier to simply stay out of the way.

She couldn't recall how many times she woke and slept and sat and slept and woke again. The long days began to drag on even more, and she finally stopped making her marks on the wall altogether.

One morning (or night, she couldn't really be sure), she rose from her seat and set out on a brief walk. Out to the balcony, back into the room, once more to the balcony. Bra wasn't sure what she was trying to accomplish, exactly, but she felt restless, like she couldn't bear to sit still any longer.

_I wish I was home, _she thought, as she continued walking back and forth, _Mom...you'd know what to do to help me. You'd know just what I needed...I wouldn't be stuck here. If only I'd never stepped foot outside after that movie...I'd not...I'd still be somewhere I was valued. I'd be safe. I wouldn't be here, in this...this festering pit of-_

A sudden burst of pain in her stomach cut her train of thought. Bra took a deep breath, and looked down briefly to see a puddle at her feet.

_My...water broke..._

Alright. If she could just remember how this had been handled-even in movies or television, there were things that had to be done. She propped herself against her usual resting place, and brought her knees up, spreading her legs in the process. She took another deep breath, and tried to remember what else she might have known about labor.

_Count the minutes... _she told herself. _The closer the pains...contractions, whatever...the closer the baby is to being born._

Then she had another thought, one from the darker part of her mind. _You could be wrong. You could be clueless about all this. You won't be able to do this-you can't even get rescued from this bleak place. What makes you think that you can give life?_

"I can..." she muttered under her breath. "I can..."

The pains grew closer together. Five minute gaps. As the gaps began to close, Bra began to breathe more heavily-and, as a result, noisily. She noted Deimos watching her briefly-before moving farther away. Perhaps, she reasoned with herself, perhaps Spartans deal differently with childbirth than the men she'd seen and known.

Two minutes. The pains grew worse and after about ten minutes became near unbearable. Bra began to cry out, and forced herself to remain sitting, rather than lying down. She continued to breathe deeply, trying to ignore the mess of blood and fluid now beneath her. She began to push in earnest, and found herself crying out again, repeatedly, as the pains waxed and waned.

_You will be here, forever. You will be...lost..._

"No..." Bra grated the word out. "No...I will not...be...will not be..."

She forced herself to focus, reaching deep for more strength. More screaming, sweating, pushing for what felt like an eternity, until finally-

"Waaaah!"

She heard cries, and took a couple more deep breaths before she looked down.

An infant, mewling, messy, and gloriously alive.

A radiant joy seemed to dawn within her, and she felt strangely renewed when she saw him.

Him.

It was a boy.

Fear melted away, replaced by the faith she'd felt before.

And hope.

She could only smile, picking him up and washing him as best she could. "He's..." she couldn't find a word.

"Try not to look so happy and hopeful!" Deimos barked from his corner. "Happiness is gone. Hope is dead."

"No..." Bra said, wrapping the baby in her cloak. "No, hope is right here..."

"If you insist upon that," Deimos said. "I have a name for him. Elpidios."

"It means hope, I am guessing."

Deimos nodded. "Let me see the boy." he came forward and grabbed the boy. Then he removed the makeshift blankets, and began turning him over, this way and that, inspecting for-what, Bra was not quite sure. After a few minutes of this, he said, "He is sufficient." and then handed Elpidios back to her.

Bra was mystified as to what he was doing for a while, until she remembered the Spartan way. The 'defective' babies were never allowed to live. How thankful she was that the boy was whole and intact! If he had not been...

She didn't want to think about that.

She turned away from him at this, smiling, and glanced more carefully at her son. He seemed to resemble Kratos in every way but one. He had her blue eyes, which seemed (strangely) to flicker with a curious intensity.

She moved back into the room behind the balcony and began to feed him, feeling nothing but pure joy.

* * *

"It certainly took you long enough."

Vegeta and Kratos stood over what was left of Zeus, which was little more than a pile of ash.

"And it is done."

An ethereal and beautiful voice sounded off from behind the two of them. They both turned, and then Kratos would speak.

"Athena."

"Though you were beset by opposition on all sides, you finally defeated Zeus. The world is undone from the shackles of Olympus and now they are free. I have a chance to finally save them."

"The gods' petty attempts to save mankind cause only more suffering." Kratos said.

"Suffering will not be the result if you hand back the power that you used to defeat Zeus. The power that you found in the box."

"The box held nothing, Athena."

"You lie, Kratos. I was your savior for many years! You cannot deny me this! It is my right!"

"I do not have this...thing that you have deluded yourself into believing that I have."

Athena shut her eyes for a few moments, then reopened them, and burst into a fit of rage. "Hope has passed from you to another!"

"I passed nothing to anyone."

Vegeta remained silent.

"It is no longer in this world!" Athena raged on. "What have you done with it? In what vessel have you hidden it?"

_Vessel? This world? _Vegeta thought to himself. Then, suddenly, realization crossed his face and he growled, "You're after _her._"

"How does it feel to be outsmarted by a monkey, Spartan? Much more wise than he looks." Athena smiled wryly.

"Her?" Kratos asked. "What is this, Athena? What have you done?"

"It is not what I did, Spartan, it is what _you _did."

"I do not have time to waste on riddles, Athena. Make your point."

"Nor do I have time, Spartan." At that, Athena turned, and left.

"Get back here, Athena!"

"We don't have time to chase Olympians, Kratos. We have to get to Bra before she does."

Kratos turned back, and as he heard Vegeta speak...everything fell into place. It all made sense-hope being passed, a vessel, no longer in this world...

"We don't have much time," Vegeta added. "Let's go."

* * *

"You are such a good little boy..." Bra smiled down at Elpidios, wiping his little chin clean. "Not a bit of trouble from you..."

"You should try to stop such coddling," Deimos said.

"He is a baby, babies deserve to be...coddled, as you phrase it. And to boot, he is my first child. How could I not shower him with attention?"

"It is not a sight I wish to see. Be quick with it, the very view of that mindless affection sickens me."

"Alright," Bra replied. She stood, and took Elpidios to the edge of the balcony. "This..." she spoke to him. "This is purgatory...not a very nice place. Not nice at all. But one day...one day you'll be out of here. One day very, very soon. You'll get to see the sun...the grass, the trees...all of it..."

"Bra!"

She froze.

"BRA! Where are you?"

It was her father's voice. She _knew _it was her father's voice.

"Dad!" she called out. "Dad!"

"Bra?"

Suddenly, through the balcony door, her father would appear. "Bra, I'm glad that I found you. I was..."

Bra turned towards him at that. "Dad...I was worried that you'd not-"

"Bra...what...is..." Vegeta seemed stunned; unable to form his words. For a few tense moments she wondered if he would recover, or if he might become angry.

"This...this is my son," Bra answered, trying not to stammer. "I...he..."

"I knew it."

"Father, I didn't-"

"Bra, you need to get out of here, and soon. I do not have time to explain."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Bra started to head for the door, but stopped when she saw Kratos standing there.

He looked down over her, his eyes seeming to go almost instantly to Elpidios. And as Deimos had done, so too would he do. He took the boy, removed the blankets, and began to check him over for flaws or signs of sickness. When none were found, he handed the baby back to Bra. "He is sufficient."

She wrapped the baby back up in his blankets, and nodded. "Kratos, there's someone else here."

"Someone else."

"Your br-"

At that moment, Deimos tackled his brother to the ground, and began a furious assault. His fists, a rock, the chains that had once been his prison-anything he could lay his hands on, he would strike his brother with.

Bra backed away, towards the balcony, and motioned to her father to come with her.

"We don't have time for this, Bra," Vegeta said. "Athena is coming and I want you to...be safe. And, I confess, you and I have to have a _long, long _talk."

"You sound much more...what's the word...refined, than usual, father. Was it the air of Olympus and the company of gods that delivered the gift of eloquence to you?"

"We'll have time for wittiness later, Bra."

She smiled briefly-until she heard a flap of wings. Before she could say a word, Thanatos had risen from just outside the balcony and snatched her up. He laughed, and once he had her turned away and flew off.

"DAD! KRATOS!" Bra called out. The fear had been hammered back into her, that was for sure, but more for her son than herself. As she looked down, she tried not to think of the instant death that would come should she be dropped.

She tried to look back, to see how quickly her father and Kratos were coming, if at all.

_No_, she told herself. _No, they ARE coming. You have no need to be afraid._

_But, _her mind seemed to answer her back, _But what if they do not come in time? What if your son is your ruin? What if in your attempt to save him you die yourself? Would it not be more reasonable to-_

But her thoughts were cut off as she was dropped onto a cliff's edge.

Thanatos landed a few feet away. "How does it feel?"

"What?" Bra answered. Time, she told herself. Time. If you can keep him talking you might have a chance. "H...how does what feel?"

"Knowing your hour of death has come. Knowing that it is all because of that...thing...you are holding. There is nothing you can do. The arms of death can be quick, if you allow them to be. If you fight, it will only increase tenfold the agony."

Bra reached for one of the Claws of Hades.

"Why do you fight? Why do you continue to fool yourself by thinking that you have a chance? What reason do you have to do so."

"My reason is my son. But, then, you wouldn't understand. How could you...?" Bra then swung the Claw she was holding at Thanatos with one arm, and with the other held Elpidios tighter.

Thanatos sidestepped and grabbed the chains attached to the Claws. "He slows you down at every turn! Can you not see the burden he is? Can you not see that he will only continue to be a detriment to everything you want to do?"

"He-"

"Bra, step aside!" Vegeta was the first to arrive. "Let go of the Claws, Thanatos."

A few moments later, Kratos appeared.

"I said, let go of the Claws!" Vegeta leapt at Thanatos and began one of his trademark beatdowns. His anger was coming out in full force now, and he seemed blinded to all else but making the god of death suffer for all that he had done.

"As you wish." Thanatos said. He gave a sudden yank on the chains, which unbalanced Bra, and then he threw them at her. This tipped her further, and caused her to fall over the cliff's edge.

"KRATOS!" Bra screamed.

Kratos stopped, and for a split-second had to consider the decision before him. On the one hand, there was Thanatos. Against whom he bore an incredible grudge, as he had with nearly all those who'd hurt him in one way or another. He could easily tear through the god of death. But on the other hand...there was Bra. And his son.

Another split second later, he had hurled himself off the cliff and readied his Blades. Once he was within reach of Bra, he grabbed her, and forced one of the Blades into the cliffside. He would then begin the long slide down, to the bottom; which was a virtual sea of sharp rocks but would be a safe harbor for her for a short time, he was sure.

The force of the sudden stop knocked the wind out of her, but she was (thankfully) otherwise unharmed.

"Kratos..." Bra said, trying not to let tears overtake her. "...I..."

"Quiet." he answered back. Once he reached the bottom, he set her down.

At that moment, Thanatos went sailing down, covered in blood. He was barely able to stop himself from falling onto the rocks, and once he had, looked up to the two of them with incredible anger. "It is that _child _that was the cause of all this. And you, the vessel! You will _pay _for daring to bring such a thing into existence!"

He rushed forward, and before even Kratos could do something, there was a brilliant flash of blue light which seemed to emanate from Elpidios. Its radiance seemed only to grow in intensity, and Bra heard Thanatos begin to scream in what was either pain, rage, or a combination of the two-she couldn't know, for the sheer brilliance of the light blinded her completely.

And then the light faded, and all that was left of Thanatos was a nasty puddle of blood on the ground.

Bra's jaw dropped, and she looked down at Elpidios. In his tiny eyes, she was sure she saw flickering blue flame...but as before, the flickering that she had noticed faded as she tried to get a better look at it.

She turned back to Kratos, who once more held her and made his way up the cliffside with his Blades and her clinging by one of her arms to him.

When they reached the top, Bra ran forward to her father, who seemed quiet...more quiet than usual after a battle.

"Dad?" she asked.

"You almost died." Her father's voice was hollow, and behind the words she felt...that he had been incredibly shaken by what had just happened.

"But I did not. Father-"

"Brother."

Deimos had arrived.

"You have slain the god of death, then?" he queried.

"No...it was...my son."

"It was hope," Vegeta spoke, seeming to have regained his confidence. "...the hope found in Pandora's Box, that Kratos possessed. It passed to the boy when he was born, shortly after Zeus was defeated."

"I thought that all gods were to fall if Zeus-" Bra began.

"Thanatos predates even Olympus."

Deimos would then speak, "You have ended my torment, brother. Perhaps not by your hand was the god of death slain, but it was nonetheless your arrival which set this into motion."

"This world lies in ruin," Vegeta would begin, suddenly. "The deaths of Poseidon, Hera, and Helios have all but destroyed it. The two of you are..." this next part he had trouble with, for his face as he spoke looked as if he had bitten into a lemon, "...are welcome to return to our world."

"I like the sound of that," Deimos said. "I am tired of this world, with the gods meddling about."

"The gods are dead," Kratos answered. His tone was harsh, but he seemed to agree with his brother.

"Then...then let's go..." Bra added. "I want to go home."


End file.
